Oh, To Tune Myself to This

Amoretti and Epithalamion
Sonnet LIX. Thrice happy she! that is so well assured
Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

THRICE happy she! that is so well assured
Unto herself, and settled so in heart,
That neither will for better be allured,
Ne feared with worse to any chance to start;
But, like a steady ship, doth strongly part
The raging waves, and keeps her course aright;
Ne aught for tempest doth from it depart,
Ne aught for fairer weather’s false delight.
Such self-assurance need not fear the spite
Of grudging foes, ne favour seek of friends:
But, in the stay of her own steadfast might,
Neither to one herself nor other bends.
Most happy she, that most assur’d doth rest;
But he most happy, who such one loves best.

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