Sonnet LXXI. I joy to see how, in your drawen work

Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

I JOY to see how, in your drawen work,

Yourself unto the bee ye do compare;

And me unto the spider, that doth lurk

In close await, to catch her unaware:

Right so yourself were caught in cunning snare

Of a dear foe, and thralled to his love;

In whose straight bands ye now captivéd are

So firmly, that ye never may remove.

But as your work is woven all above

With woodbine flowers and fragrant eglantine;

So sweet your prison you in time shall prove,

With many dear delights bedecked fine.

And all thenceforth eternal peace shall see

Between the spider and the gentle bee.