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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374453" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet VII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374453" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart,<br>what wondrous vertue is contaynd in you<br>the which both lyfe and death forth fro[m] you dart<br>into the obiect of your mighty view?<br>For when ye mildly looke with louely hew,<br>then is my soule with life and loue inspired:<br>but when ye lowre, or looke on me askew<br>then doe I die, as one with lightning fyred.<br>But since that lyfe is more then death desyred,<br>looke euer louely, as becomes you best,<br>that your bright beams of my weak eies admyred,<br>may kindle liuing fire within my brest.<br>Such life should be the honor of your light,<br>such death the sad ensample of your might.</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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