Quote

But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Beauty
Angel
Frail
Within
Minds
Frame
Desire
Lead
Angels
Speak
Thoughts
Heavenly
Come
Fashion
Bound
Heart
Rest
Desires
Mind
Stop
Bounds
Teach
Tongue
Chaste

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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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So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
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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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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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For all that faire is, is by nature goodThat is a signe to know the gentle blood.
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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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Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
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Greatest god below the sky.
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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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Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife And fretting grief the enemy of life All these and many evils more, haunt ire.
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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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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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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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Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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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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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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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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