Edmund Spenser
Amoretti: Sonnet 82
Joy of my life, full oft for loving you
    I blesse my lot, that was so lucky placed:
    but then the more your owne mishap I rew,
    that are so much by so meane love embased.
For had the equall hevens so much you graced
    in this as in the rest, ye mote invent
    som hevenly wit, whose verse could have enchased
    your glorious name in golden moniment.
But since ye deignd so goodly to relent
    to me your thrall, in whom is little worth,
    that little that I am, shall all be spent,
    in setting your immortall prayses forth.
Whose lofty argument uplifting me,
    shall lift you up unto an high degree.