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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Weary
Unto
Leave
Ends
Come
Long
Love
Sad

More quotes by Edmund Spenser

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So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
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For all that faire is, is by nature goodThat is a signe to know the gentle blood.
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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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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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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.
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The nightingale is sovereign of song.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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There learned arts do flourish in great honour And poets's wits are had in peerless price Religion hath lay power, to rest upon her, Advancing virtue, and suppressing vice. For end all good, all grace there freely grows, Had people grace it gratefully to use: For God His gifts there plenteously bestows, But graceless men them greatly do abuse.
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.
Edmund Spenser
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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
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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
Edmund Spenser
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At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre.
Edmund Spenser
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
Edmund Spenser
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
Edmund Spenser
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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
Edmund Spenser
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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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!
Edmund Spenser