THE FAERIE QUEENE by Edmund Spenser TO The ... - Planet.ee

www.TaleBooks.comWhereof the keies are to thy hand behightBy wise Fidelia? Shee doth thee require,To shew it to this knight, according his desire."LI. "Thrise happy man," said then the father grave,"Whose staggering steps thy steady hand doth lead,And shewes the way his sinfull soule to save!Who better can the way to heaven areadThen thou thyselfe, that was both borne and bredIn hevenly throne, where thousand Angels shine?Thou doest the praiers of the righteous seadPresent before the majesty divine,And his avenging wrath to clemency incline.LII. "Yet, since thou bidst, thy pleasure shalbe donne.Then come, thou man of earth, and see the way,That never yet was seene of Faeries sonne;That never leads the traveiler astray,But after labors long and sad delay,Brings them to joyous rest and endlesse blis.But first thou must a season fast and pray,Till from her hands the spright assoiled is,And have her strength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.LIII. "That done, he leads him to the highest Mount,Such one as that same mighty man of God,That blood-red billowes, like a walled front,On either side disparted with his rod,Till that his army dry-foot through them yod,Dwelt forty daies upon; where, writt in stoneWith bloody letters by the hand of God,The bitter doome of death and balefull moneHe did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone:LIV. Or like that sacred hill, whose head full hie,Adornd with fruitfull Olives all arownd,Is, as it were for endlesse memoryOf that deare Lord who oft thereon was fownd,For ever with a flowring girlond crownd:Or like that pleasaunt Mount, that is for ayThrough famous Poets verse each where renownd,On which the thrise three learned Ladies playTheir hevenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay.LV. From thence, far off he unto him did shewA little path that was both steepe and long,Which to a goodly Citty led his vew,Whose wals and towres were builded high and strongOf perle and precious stone, that earthly tongCannot describe, nor wit of man can tell;Too high a ditty for my simple song.The Citty of the greate king hight it well,Wherein eternall peace and happinesse doth dwell.LVI. As he thereon stood gazing, he might seePage 108 , Faerie Queene, The - Edmund Spenser