The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
EDMUND SPENSERFor next to Death is Sleepe to be compared; Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
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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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For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
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Through knowledge we behold the world’s creation, How in his cradle first he fostered was; And judge of Nature’s cunning operation, How things she formed of a formless mass.
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Waking love suffereth no sleepe: Say, that raging love dothe appall the weake stomacke: Say, that lamenting love marreth the musicall.
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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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The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
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Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.
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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
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For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared; Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.
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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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What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?
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Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.
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All for love, and nothing for reward.
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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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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
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Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
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How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowers That in the forest grew.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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