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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Common
Eye
Ever
Thing
Despise
Learned
Small
Eyes

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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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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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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.
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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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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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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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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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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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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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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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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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And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
Edmund Spenser
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For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
Edmund Spenser
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end.
Edmund Spenser
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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.
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