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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Gratitude
Joyfulness
Garden
Thankfulness
Grows
Cheerfulness
Happiness
Delightful
Happy
Cheer
Bliss
Immortal
Appreciation

More quotes by Edmund Spenser

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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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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
Edmund Spenser
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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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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.
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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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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
Edmund Spenser
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Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
Edmund Spenser
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And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
Edmund Spenser
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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
Edmund Spenser
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For if good were not praised more than ill, None would chuse goodness of his own free will.
Edmund Spenser
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
Edmund Spenser
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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
Edmund Spenser
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
Edmund Spenser
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For all that faire is, is by nature goodThat is a signe to know the gentle blood.
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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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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I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
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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Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
Edmund Spenser
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Then came October, full of merry glee.
Edmund Spenser