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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
Edmund Spenser
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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Rose
Flower
Time
Love
Whilst
Gather
More quotes by Edmund Spenser
Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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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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For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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Those that were up themselves, kept others low Those that were low themselves, held others hard He suffered them to ryse or greater grow But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.
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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.
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Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.
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So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
Edmund Spenser
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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Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
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Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
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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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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife And fretting grief the enemy of life All these and many evils more, haunt ire.
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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
I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
Edmund Spenser