In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
EDMUND SPENSERThe noblest mind the best contentment has.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
-
-
The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
EDMUND SPENSER -
So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? – Epithalamion
EDMUND SPENSER -
A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Those that were up themselves, kept others low; Those that were low themselves, held others hard; He suffered them to ryse or greater grow; But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.
EDMUND SPENSER -
All flesh doth frailty breed!
EDMUND SPENSER -
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
EDMUND SPENSER -
All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
EDMUND SPENSER