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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
Come
Long
Love
Sad
Weary
Unto
Leave
Ends

More quotes by Edmund Spenser

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Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.
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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
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What though the sea with waves continuall Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought : For whatsoever from one place doth fall Is with the tyde unto another brought : For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.
Edmund Spenser
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
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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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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
Edmund Spenser
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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
Edmund Spenser
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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
Edmund Spenser
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For take thy ballaunce if thou be so wise, And weigh the winds that under heaven doth blow Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.
Edmund Spenser
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So Orpheus did for his owne bride, So I unto my selfe alone will sing, The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.
Edmund Spenser
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state for misery doth bravest minds abate.
Edmund Spenser
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
Edmund Spenser
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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
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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?
Edmund Spenser
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
Edmund Spenser