Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
EDMUND SPENSERIll can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
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For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
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For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
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But times do change and move continually.
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Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan’s beams, which then did glister fair.
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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.
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For deeds to die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men to as themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for ay.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,And by eternall doome of Fate’s decree,Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.
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All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayed; Go to my love, where she is careless laid.
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Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
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Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
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Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
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What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?
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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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All for love, and nothing for reward.
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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
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The man whom nature’s self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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No dainty flower or herbs that grows on ground, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and throw her sweet smells all around.
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The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
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Laws ought to be fashioned unto the manners and conditions of the people whom they are meant to benefit, and not imposed upon them according to the simple rule of right.
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Together linkt with adamantine chains.
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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
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