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.
EDMUND SPENSERLike as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate.
More Edmund Spenser Quotes
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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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
The man whom nature’s self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
EDMUND SPENSER -
For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Fresh spring the herald of love’s mighty king.
EDMUND SPENSER -
Together linkt with adamantine chains.
EDMUND SPENSER -
But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.
EDMUND SPENSER -
For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared; Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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 -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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.
EDMUND SPENSER -
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 -
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
EDMUND SPENSER







