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Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Ready
Impute
Heaven
Thereof
Action
Follies
Always
Folly
Would
Excuse
Men
Actions
Blame
Succeed

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The man whom nature's self had made to mock herself, and truth to imitate.
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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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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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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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Unhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought
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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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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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Greatest god below the sky.
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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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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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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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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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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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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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