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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374465" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XLV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374465" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene,<br>Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew:<br>and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,<br>most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew.<br>Within my hart, though hardly it can shew,<br>thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye:<br>the fayre Idea of your celestiall hew,<br>and euery part remaines immortally:<br>And were it not that through your cruelty,<br>with sorrow dimmed and deformd it were:<br>the goodly ymage of your visnomy,<br>clearer then christall would therein appere.<br>But if your selfe in me ye playne will see,<br>remoue the cause by which your fayre beames darkned 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>

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