In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
EDMUND SPENSERBut 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.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
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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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For 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.
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But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.
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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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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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The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
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The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
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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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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
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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 easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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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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Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
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Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
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Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.
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The noblest mind the best contentment has.
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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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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
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