The Works of Edmund Spenser A Variorum Edition: Edited by Edwin Greenlaw: Charles Grosvenor Osgood: Frederick Morgan Padelford: Ray Heffner |
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The Works of Edmund Spenser | ||
Thus when he ended had his heauie plaint,
The heauiest plaint that euer I heard sound,
His cheekes wext pale, and sprights began to faint,
As if againe he would haue fallen to ground;
Which when I saw, I (stepping to him light)
Amooued him out of his stonie swound,
And gan him to recomfort as I might.
The heauiest plaint that euer I heard sound,
His cheekes wext pale, and sprights began to faint,
As if againe he would haue fallen to ground;
Which when I saw, I (stepping to him light)
Amooued him out of his stonie swound,
And gan him to recomfort as I might.
But he no waie recomforted would be,
Nor suffer solace to approach him nie,
But casting vp a sdeinfull eie at me,
That in his traunce I would not let him lie,
Did rend his haire, and beat his blubbred face,
As one disposed wilfullie to die,
That I sore grieu'd to see his wretched case.
Nor suffer solace to approach him nie,
But casting vp a sdeinfull eie at me,
That in his traunce I would not let him lie,
Did rend his haire, and beat his blubbred face,
As one disposed wilfullie to die,
That I sore grieu'd to see his wretched case.
Tho when the pang was somewhat ouerpast,
And the outragious passion nigh appeased,
I him desyrde, sith daie was ouercast,
And darke night fast approched, to be pleased
To turne aside vnto my Cabinet,
And staie with me, till he were better eased
Of that strong stownd, which him so sore beset.
And the outragious passion nigh appeased,
I him desyrde, sith daie was ouercast,
And darke night fast approched, to be pleased
To turne aside vnto my Cabinet,
And staie with me, till he were better eased
Of that strong stownd, which him so sore beset.
142
But by no meanes I could him win thereto,
Ne longer him intreate with me to staie,
But without taking leaue he foorth did goe
With staggring pace and dismall lookes dismay,
As if that death he in the face had seene,
Or hellish hags had met vpon the way:
But what of him became I cannot weene.
Ne longer him intreate with me to staie,
But without taking leaue he foorth did goe
With staggring pace and dismall lookes dismay,
As if that death he in the face had seene,
Or hellish hags had met vpon the way:
But what of him became I cannot weene.
The Works of Edmund Spenser | ||