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The nightingale is sovereign of song.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Nightingale
Nightingales
Sovereign
Song

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Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
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At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre.
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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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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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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion
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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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For if good were not praised more than ill, None would chuse goodness of his own free will.
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Oft stumbles at a straw.
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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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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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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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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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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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Greatest god below the sky.
Edmund Spenser
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Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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For of the soule the bodie forme doth take For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.
Edmund Spenser