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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
Speak
Thoughts
Heavenly
Come
Fashion
Bound
Heart
Rest
Desires
Mind
Stop
Bounds
Teach
Tongue
Chaste
Beauty
Angel
Frail
Within
Minds
Frame
Desire
Lead
Angels

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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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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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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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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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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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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
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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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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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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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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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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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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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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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Oft stumbles at a straw.
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Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.
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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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