Edmund Spenser

Don Chaucer. well of English undefyled
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.

Don Chaucer. well of English undefyled
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.

And thus of all my harvest-hope I have
Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.

And thus of all my harvest-hope I have
Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes read more

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes full strong and largely displayed,
But of their leaves they were disarayde
The bodie bigge, and mightely pight,
Thoroughly rooted, and of wond'rous hight;
Whilome had bene the king of the field,
And mochell mast to the husband did yielde,
And with his nuts larded many swine:
But now the gray mosse marred his rine;
His bared boughes were beaten with stormes,
His toppe was bald, and wasted with wormes,
His honour decayed, his brauches sere.