<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374399" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Poem 95</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">VNto his mother straight he weeping came,<br>and of his griefe complayned:<br>Who could not chose but laugh at his fond game,<br>though sad to see him pained.<br>Think now (quod she) my sonne how great the smart<br>of those whom thou dost wound:<br>Full many thou hast pricked to the hart,<br>that pitty neuer found:<br>Therefore henceforth some pitty take,<br>when thou doest spoyle of louers make.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edmund+Spenser">Edmund Spenser</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374399" data-title="Poem 95 de Edmund Spenser" data-description="VNto his mother straight he weeping came, and of his griefe complayned: Who could not chose but laugh at his fond game, though sad to see him pained. Think now (quod she) my sonne how great the smart of those whom thou dost wound: Full many thou h..."></div> </div> </div>

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