The noblest mind the best contentment has.
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
-
-
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
EDMUND SPENSER -
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Laws 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 SPENSER -
The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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 -
My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?
EDMUND SPENSER -
Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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 SPENSER -
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 -
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 -
Fresh spring the herald of love’s mighty king.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Man’s wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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 -
For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
EDMUND SPENSER







