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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Else
Monument
Poets
Stone
Survival
Scrolls
Stones
Outlive
Poet
Monuments
Genius
Survives
Death
Claimed

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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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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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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
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And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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Ill seemes (sayd he) if he so valiant be, That he should be so sterne to stranger wight For seldom yet did living creature see That courtesie and manhood ever disagree.
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Woe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
Edmund Spenser
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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.
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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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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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Unhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought
Edmund Spenser
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
Edmund Spenser
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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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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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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
Edmund Spenser
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For of the soule the bodie forme doth take For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.
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