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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374383" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Poem 21</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374383" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">WHo is the same, which at my window peepes?<br>Or whose is that faire face, that shines so bright,<br>Is it not Cinthia, she that neuer sleepes,<br>But walkes about high heauen al the night?<br>O fayrest goddesse, do thou not enuy<br>My loue with me to spy:<br>For thou likewise didst loue, though now vnthought,<br>And for a fleece of woll, which priuily,<br>The Latmian shephard once vnto thee brought,<br>His pleasures with thee wrought,<br>Therefore to vs be fauorable now;<br>And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,<br>And generation goodly dost enlarge,<br>Encline they will t'effect our wishfull vow,<br>And the chast wombe informe with timely seed,<br>That may our comfort breed:<br>Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing,<br>Ne let the woods vs answere, nor our Eccho ring.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edmund+Spenser">Edmund Spenser</a></strong></div>