Amoretti Sonnet LXXXIX - by Edmund Spenser

Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,

For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see:

but the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,

and vertuous mind is much more praysd of me.

Amoretti Sonnet LXXV - by Edmund Spenser

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,

But came the waves and washed it away:

Again I write it with a second hand,

But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.