Sweet smile! the daughter of the Queen of Love, Expressing all thy mother's powerful art, With which she wont to temper angry Jove, When all the gods he threats with thundering dart: Sweet is thy virtue, as thyself sweet art! For, when on me thou shinedst late in sadness, A melting pleasance ran through every part, And me revived with heart-robbing gladness![91] The effect of a first relenting and affectionate smile, from a being of this character, must, in truth, have been irresistible. He tells us how lovely she appeared in his eyes,--how surpassing fair: When that the cloud of pride which oft doth dark Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away! He finds her one day embroidering in silk a bee and a spider, Woven all about, With woodbynd flowers and fragrant eglantine, and he playfully compares himself to a spider, and her to the bee, whom, after long and weary watching, he has at length caught in his snare. This pretty incident is the subject of the 71st Sonnet. The rapture of grateful affection is more eloquent in the Sonnet beginning Joy of my life! full oft for loving you I bless my lot, that was so lucky placed, &c. When he is allowed to hope, the pride which had before checked and chilled him, seems to change its character. He feels all the exultation of being beloved of one, not easily gained, and "assured unto herself." Thrice happy she that is so well assured Unto herself, and settled so in heart, &c.[92] After a courtship of about three years, he sues for the possession of the fair hand to which he had so long aspired; promising her (and not vainly,) all the immortality his verse could bestow,-- Even this verse, vowed to eternity, Shall be of her immortal monument, And tell her praise to all posterity! The fair Elizabeth at length confesses herself won; but expresses some fears at the idea of relinquishing her maiden freedom. His reply is, perhaps, the most beautiful of all the Sonnets. It has all the tenderness, elegance, and fancy, which distinguish Spenser in his happiest moments of inspiration. The doubt which ye misdeem, fair love, is vain, That fondly fear to lose your liberty; When, losing one, two liberties ye gain, And make him bound that bondage erst did fly. Sweet be the bands, the which true love doth tye Without constraint, or dread of any ill: The gentle bird feels no captivity Within her cage; but sings, and feeds her fill: There pride dare not approach, nor discord spill The league 'twixt them, that loyal love hath bound: But simple Truth, and mutual Good-will, Seeks, with sweet peace, to salve each other's wound: There Faith doth fearless dwell is brazen tower, And spotless Pleasure builds her sacred bower.[93]