For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.
EDMUND SPENSERFrom good to bad, and from bad to worse, From worse unto that is worst of all, And then return to his former fall.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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.
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Joy may you have and gentle hearts content Of your loves couplement: And let faire Venus, that is Queene of love, With her heart-quelling Sonne upon you smile
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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.
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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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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.
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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.
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Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
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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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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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Fresh spring the herald of love’s mighty king.
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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? – Epithalamion
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Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
EDMUND SPENSER