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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE FAERIE QUEENE<br>Contayning<br>THE LEGENDE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE<br>RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSEProemi<br> Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske,<br> As time her taught in lowly Shepheards weeds,<br> Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,<br> For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,<br> And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;<br> Whose prayses having slept in silence long,<br> Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds<br> To blazon broad emongst her learned throng:<br> Fierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">ii</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,<br> Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will,<br> Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne<br> The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,<br> Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,<br> Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long<br> Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,<br> That I must rue his undeserved wrong:<br> O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">iii</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,<br> Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart<br> At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,<br> That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,<br> Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,<br> And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde:<br> Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,<br> In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,<br> After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.<br>iv</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,<br> Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,<br> Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light<br> Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine,<br> Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,<br> And raise my thoughts too humble and too vile,<br> To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,<br> The argument of mine afflicted stile:<br> The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred a-while.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"></a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=374496" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">CANTO I</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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