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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Blew
Violet
Roses
Sweetest
Red
Forrest
Rose
Violets
Flower
Grew
Bathed

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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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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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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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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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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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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
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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.
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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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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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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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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?
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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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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
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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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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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For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
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