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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374435" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet LXXII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374435" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">OFt when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges,<br>In mind to mount vp to the purest sky:<br>it down is weighd with thoght of earthly things:<br>and clogd with burden of mortality,<br>Where when that souerayne beauty it doth spy,<br>resembling heauens glory in her light:<br>drawne with sweet pleasures bayt, it back doth fly,<br>and vnto heauen forgets her former flight.<br>There my fraile fancy fed with full delight,<br>doth bath in blisse and mantleth most at ease:<br>ne thinks of other heauen, but how it might<br>her harts desire with most contentment please,<br>Hart need not with none other happinesse,<br>but here on earth to haue such heuens blisse.</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>

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