Edmund Spenser

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
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One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
Agayne I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tyde and made my paynes his prey.

Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercie ever hope to have?

Who will not mercie unto others show,
How can he mercie ever hope to have?

And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
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And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore.

Like as a feareful partridge, that is fledd
From the sharpe hauke which her attacked neare,
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Like as a feareful partridge, that is fledd
From the sharpe hauke which her attacked neare,
And falls to ground to seeke for succor theare,
Whereas the hungry spaniells she does spye,
With greedy jawes her ready for to teare.

And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.

And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.