Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
EDMUND SPENSERAll that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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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All for love, and nothing for reward.
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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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For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
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And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
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Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay.
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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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The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.
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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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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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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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Fretting grief the enemy of life.
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Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
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Who would ever care to do brave deed, Or strive in virtue others to excel, If none should yield him his deserved meed Due praise, that is the spur of doing well? For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
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To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.
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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? – Epithalamion
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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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And he that strives to touch the stars Oft stumbles at a straw.
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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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Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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Greatest god below the sky.
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