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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

Edmund Spenser

This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Heart Mindset Misery World
Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Absence Cry Friendship Herself Loss
And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
EDMUND SPENSER

Happiness Pain Pleasure
Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.
EDMUND SPENSER

Action Blame Heaven Man Success
Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
EDMUND SPENSER

Evening Fade Fresh Man Morning Taste
Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
EDMUND SPENSER

Flesh Live Man Spirit Teaching Yourself
Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
EDMUND SPENSER

Love Sweet Time
So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
EDMUND SPENSER

Grace Profit Rule
The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
EDMUND SPENSER

Advice Bite Hard Ocean
Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.
EDMUND SPENSER

Appearance Bed Bright Flame Light Morning Stars
For that which all men then did virtue call, Is now called vice; and that which vice was hight, Is now hight virtue, and so used of all: Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right.
EDMUND SPENSER

Call Man Myself Right Virtue Wrong
How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
EDMUND SPENSER

Adversity Fall Flower Right
In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
EDMUND SPENSER

Himself Learning Wasted
For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,And by eternall doome of Fate’s decree,Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.
EDMUND SPENSER

Bright Eternity Fate Forever Heaven Ourselves
I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
EDMUND SPENSER

Myself Promise Reason Season Time
From good to bad, and from bad to worse, From worse unto that is worst of all, And then return to his former fall.
EDMUND SPENSER

Bad Fall Goodness Himself Return Worst

Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

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