In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
EDMUND SPENSERFull 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.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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The noblest mind the best contentment has.
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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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A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
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But 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.
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No dainty flower or herbs that grows on ground, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and throw her sweet smells all around.
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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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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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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Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
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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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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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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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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