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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374442" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet LXXXI</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374442" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares,<br>with the loose wynd ye wauing chance to marke:<br>fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appeares,<br>or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke.<br>Fayre when her brest lyke a rich laden barke,<br>with pretious merchandize she forth doth lay:<br>fayre whe[n] that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark<br>her goodly light with smiles she driues away.<br>But fayrest she, when so she doth display,<br>the gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight:<br>throgh which her words so wise do make their way<br>to beare the message of her gentle spright,<br>The rest be works of natures wonderment,<br>but this the worke of harts astonishment.</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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