“Sonnet 71” by Edmund Spenser (1552-1599):
I joy to see how in your drawen work,
Your selfe unto the Bee ye doe compare;
and me unto the Spyder that doth lurke,
in close awayt to catch her unaware.
Right so your selfe were caught in cunning snare
of a deare foe, and thralled to his love:
in whose streight hands ye now captived are
so firmely, that ye never may remove.
But as your worke is woven all above,
with woodbynd flowers and fragrant Eglantine:
so sweet your prison you in time shall prove,
with many deare delights bedecked fyne.
And all thensforth eternall peace shall see,
between the Spyder and the gentle Bee.
(From Amoretti, published in London in 1595 by William Ponsonby. Photo via Wikimedia Commons)
The Dish 
