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Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Wretched
Fades
Fresh
Evening
Late
State
States
Men

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For if good were not praised more than ill, None would chuse goodness of his own free will.
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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.
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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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And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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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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Oft stumbles at a straw.
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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.
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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
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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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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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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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How many great ones may remember'd be, Which in their days most famously did flourish, Of whom no word we hear, nor sign now see, But as things wip'd out with a sponge do perish, Because the living cared not to cherish No gentle wits, through pride or covetize, Which might their names forever memorize!
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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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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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Then came October, full of merry glee.
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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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Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
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