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My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Cold
Fire
Grows
Entreat
Desire
Dissolved
Comes
Ice
Great
Rejection
Love
Hot
Like
Harder

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What more felicitie can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with libertie, And to be lord of all the workes of Nature, To raine in th' aire from earth to highest skie, To feed on flowres and weeds of glorious feature.
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There learned arts do flourish in great honour And poets's wits are had in peerless price Religion hath lay power, to rest upon her, Advancing virtue, and suppressing vice. For end all good, all grace there freely grows, Had people grace it gratefully to use: For God His gifts there plenteously bestows, But graceless men them greatly do abuse.
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Greatest god below the sky.
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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.
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Then came October, full of merry glee.
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