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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
Bliss
Immortal
Appreciation
Gratitude
Joyfulness
Garden
Thankfulness
Grows
Cheerfulness
Happiness
Delightful
Happy
Cheer

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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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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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Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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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.
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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end.
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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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Then came October, full of merry glee.
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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.
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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.
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Fly from wrath sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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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.
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Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
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Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
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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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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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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion
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