Those 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 SPENSERAh! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? – Epithalamion
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
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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?
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The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
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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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From good to bad, and from bad to worse, From worse unto that is worst of all, And then return to his former fall.
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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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Me seems the world is run quite out of square,From the first point of his appointed source,And being once amiss grows daily worse and worse.
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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.
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The noblest mind the best contentment has.
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All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayed; Go to my love, where she is careless laid.
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Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
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Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
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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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In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
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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.
EDMUND SPENSER