WHo is the same, which at my window peepes? <br />Or whose is that faire face, that shines so bright, <br />Is it not Cinthia, she that neuer sleepes, <br />But walkes about high heauen al the night? <br />O fayrest goddesse, do thou not enuy <br />My loue with me to spy: <br />For thou likewise didst loue, though now vnthought, <br />And for a fleece of woll, which priuily, <br />The Latmian shephard once vnto thee brought, <br />His pleasures with thee wrought, <br />Therefore to vs be fauorable now; <br />And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge, <br />And generation goodly dost enlarge, <br />Encline they will t'effect our wishfull vow, <br />And the chast wombe informe with timely seed, <br />That may our comfort breed: <br />Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing, <br />Ne let the woods vs answere, nor our Eccho ring.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-21/
