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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.

Edmund Spenser

But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.
EDMUND SPENSER

Herself Justice Right Truth Win
Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
EDMUND SPENSER

Love Sweet Time
Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Absence Cry Friendship Herself Loss
A sweet attractive kind of grace, A full assurance given by looks, Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books– I trow that countenance cannot lye Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
EDMUND SPENSER

Attraction Comfortable Eyes Grace Kind Sweet Thinking
For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
EDMUND SPENSER

Choice Freedom Goodness Praise Sick Willing
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

Action Death Live Man Thinking Wisdom Word
Fresh spring the herald of love’s mighty king.
EDMUND SPENSER

King Love Spring
The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
EDMUND SPENSER

Action Gentle Mindset
Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay.
EDMUND SPENSER

Music Sweet
Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
EDMUND SPENSER

Angry Late Repent
So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower.
EDMUND SPENSER

Day Flower Life Mortal Pass
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

Creation Form Herself Judgement Knowledge Nature Operation World
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.
EDMUND SPENSER

Day Fear Feed Goodness Hell Hope Night Sorrow Speed Unknown Wasted
Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? – Epithalamion
EDMUND SPENSER

Leaving Love Myself
Waking love suffereth no sleepe: Say, that raging love dothe appall the weake stomacke: Say, that lamenting love marreth the musicall.
EDMUND SPENSER

Love Marriage Rage Sleep Suffering Wake Weakness
Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
EDMUND SPENSER

Freedom Sin Wasted Time

Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.

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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.

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