Her angel’s face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
EDMUND SPENSERFoul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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Fresh spring the herald of love’s mighty king.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
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How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
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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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Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.
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So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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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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But O the exceeding grace Of highest God, that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed angels, he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
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Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.
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Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.
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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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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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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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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowers That in the forest grew.
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To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.
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The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.
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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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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn’d himself first to subdue.
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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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Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.
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For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
EDMUND SPENSER