Fridays in Verse: From Spenser to the Irish

A bit of a story.  My junior year of undergrad, we had an assignment: write a Spenserian sonnet about the Irish, aka our football team.  The best poem would win a prize.  And yes . . . I actually won, and was giddy, and my prize was these delicious key lime squares my professor had made.  My friend reminded me of this contest over the weekend.  So, in the spirit of nostalgia, a very unusual Spenserian sonnet:

The Fighting Irish, as they took the fielde,
Full fearsome formd that e’en a fearfull quake
In Mart’s eye had not missed, did Lady shielde
Whose hew in gild their helmets’ hue did take
For to blind their foe.  Yet dear the vain mistake
When foe their trick’ry gaped with eye unmoved
Of whose own land the sun outshines did break
The line of Eire, who unfelled Troy removed
That gilded gloried seemd, quicksilver tested proved.  

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