Edmund Spenser (Эдмунд Спенсер)

Sonnet 66. TO All Those Happy Blessings Which Ye Haue

TO all those happy blessings which ye haue,
with plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown:
this one disparagement they to you gaue,
that ye your loue lent to so meane a one.
Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon,
could not on earth haue found one fit for mate,
ne but in heauen matchable to none,
why did ye stoup vnto so lowly state.
But ye thereby much greater glory gate,
then had ye sorted with a princes pere:
for now your light doth more it selfe dilate,
and in my darknesse greater doth appeare.
Yet since your light hath once enlumind me,
with my reflex yours shall encreased be. 

1. Sonnet 38. ARion, When Through Tempests Cruel Wracke
2. Sonnet 81. Fayre Is My Loue, When Her Fayre Golden Heares
3. Sonnet 25. HOw Long Shall This Lyke Dying Lyfe Endure
4. Sonnet 50. Long Languishing In Double Malady
5. Whilst It Is Prime

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