Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
EDMUND SPENSERFor whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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Joy may you have and gentle hearts content Of your loves couplement: And let faire Venus, that is Queene of love, With her heart-quelling Sonne upon you smile
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Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay.
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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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The man whom nature’s self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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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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In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
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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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For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
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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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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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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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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All for love, and nothing for reward.
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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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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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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
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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 gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
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My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?
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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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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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Together linkt with adamantine chains.
EDMUND SPENSER