(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Sonnet Lxvii

Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace,
Seeing the game from him escapt away:
sits downe to rest him in some shady place,
with panting hounds beguiled of their pray.
So after long pursuit and vaine assay,
when I all weary had the chace forsooke,
the gentle deare returnd the selfe-same way,
thinking to quench her thirst at the next brooke.
There she beholding me with mylder looke,
sought not to fly, but fearelesse still did bide:
till I in hand her yet halfe trembling tooke,
and with her owne goodwill hir fyrmely tyde.
Strange thing me seemed to see a beast so wyld,
so goodly wonne with her owne will beguyld.

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Comments (1)

this is one of Spenser's love poems written on the chase of Elizabeth. here he compares himself to a hunter and tries to hunt the deer Elizabeth but when he gets the opportunity to tie her she turns to be a hunter and the poet who is a hunter finds himself hunted.