Sonnet LVI. Fair ye be sure, but cruel and unkind

Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

FAIR ye be sure, but cruel and unkind,

As is a tiger, that with greediness

Hunts after blood; when he by chance doth find

A feeble beast, doth felly him oppress.

Fair be ye sure, but proud and pitiless,

As is a storm, that all things doth prostrate;

Finding a tree alone all comfortless,

Beats on it strongly, it to ruinate.

Fair be ye sure, but hard and obstinate,

As is a rock amidst the raging floods;

’Gainst which, a ship, of succour desolate,

Doth suffer wreck both of herself and goods.

That ship, that tree, and that same beast, am I,

Whom ye do wreck, do ruin, and destroy.