Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
EDMUND SPENSERYet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
EDMUND SPENSERFor 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 SPENSERTo be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.
EDMUND SPENSERWho 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.
EDMUND SPENSERTogether linkt with adamantine chains.
EDMUND SPENSERThose 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 SPENSERLaws ought to be fashioned unto the manners and conditions of the people whom they are meant to benefit, and not imposed upon them according to the simple rule of right.
EDMUND SPENSERThe Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
EDMUND SPENSERAll flesh doth frailty breed!
EDMUND SPENSERIn one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
EDMUND SPENSERWhat more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?
EDMUND SPENSERThe man whom nature’s self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
EDMUND SPENSERUnhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought.
EDMUND SPENSERFor since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
EDMUND SPENSERAll for love, and nothing for reward.
EDMUND SPENSERHard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
EDMUND SPENSER