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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374458" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XIII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374458" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">IN that proud port, which her so goodly graceth,<br>whiles her faire face she reares vp to the skie:<br>and to the ground her eie lids low embaseth,<br>most goodly temperature ye may descry,<br>Myld humblesse mixt with awfull maiesty,<br>for looking on the earth whence she was borne:<br>her minde remembreth her mortalitie,<br>what so is fayrest shall to earth returne.<br>But that same lofty countenance seemes to scorne<br>base thing, & thinke how she to heauen may clime:<br>treading downe earth as lothsome and forlorne,<br>that hinders heauenly thoughts with drossy slime.<br>Yet lowly still vouchsafe to looke on me,<br>such lowlinesse shall make you lofty be.</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>