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 SPENSERSo let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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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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.
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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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All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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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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Greatest god below the sky.
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The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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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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Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
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The man whom nature’s self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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Together linkt with adamantine chains.
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Fretting grief the enemy of life.
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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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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.
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So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower.
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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.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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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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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
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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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Who would ever care to do brave deed, Or strive in virtue others to excel, If none should yield him his deserved meed Due praise, that is the spur of doing well? For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
EDMUND SPENSER