Edmund Spenser

Amoretti

XLIV
When those renowned noble Peers of Greece,
Through stubborn pride amongst themselves did jar,
Forgetful of the famous golden fleece,
Then Orpheus with his harp their strife did bar.
But this continual cruel civil war
The which myself against my self do make:
Whilst my weak powers of passions warried are,
No skill can stint nor reason can aslake.
But when in hand my tuneless harp I take,
Then do I more augment my foes' despight:
And grief renew, and passions do awake
To battle, fresh against myself to fight.
'Mongst whom the more I seek to settle peace,
The more I find their malice to increase.