But times do change and move continually.
EDMUND SPENSERSuch is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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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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The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
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All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
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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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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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Greatest god below the sky.
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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
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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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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
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I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
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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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Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
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How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
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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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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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Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan’s beams, which then did glister fair.
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But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.
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Sluggish idleness–the nurse of sin.
EDMUND SPENSER