Edmund Spenser Quotes

Ill seemes (sayd he) if he so valiant be, That he should be so sterne to stranger wight; For seldom yet did living creature see That courtesie and manhood ever disagree.

There is no disputing about taste.

The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.

Pour out the wine without restraint or stay, Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful, Pour out to all that wull.

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.

O happy earth, Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!

Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.

Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.

Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.

And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine.

In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.

A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.

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

All flesh doth frailty breed!

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?

Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.

Fretting grief the enemy of life.

Gold all is not that doth golden seem.

Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.

So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre

Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.

Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square,From the first point of his appointed sourse,And being once amisse growes daily wourse and wourse.

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.

And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.

Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!

Waking love suffereth no sleepe: Say, that raging love dothe appall the weake stomacke: Say, that lamenting love marreth the musicall.

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

To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.

But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.

Like as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate

It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong.

The nightingale is sovereign of song.

Ah, fool! faint heart fair lady ne'er could win.

The paynefull smith, with force of fervent heat, The hardest yron soone doth mollify, That with his heavy sledge he can it beat, And fashion it to what he it list apply.

Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.

Where justice grows, there grows eke greater grace.

O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.

I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.

Then came October, full of merry glee.

Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,And layes the soul to sleepe in quiet grave?Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please.

Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song.

For all that faire is, is by nature good;That is a signe to know the gentle blood.

In youth, before I waxe' d old, The blind boy,Venus' baby, For want of cunning made me bold, In bitter hive to grope for honey.

But as it falleth, in the gentlest hearts Imperious love hath highest set his throne, And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts Of them, that to him buxom are and prone.

Go little book, thy self present, As child whose parent is unkent: To him that is the president Of noblesse and of chivalry, And if that Envy bark at thee, As sure it will, for succour flee.

For of the soule the bodie forme doth take; For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.

For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.

Unhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought

Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.