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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Eyes
Separation
Eye
Miss
Night
Turned
Mines
Mine
Sight
Cheerless
Missing
Joyous
Since
Cheerful

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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.
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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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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.
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O sacred hunger of ambitious minds.
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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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And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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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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Fly from wrath sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
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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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Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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Laws ought to be fashioned unto the manners and conditions of the people whom they are meant to benefit, and not imposed upon them according to the simple rule of right.
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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So Orpheus did for his owne bride, So I unto my selfe alone will sing, The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.
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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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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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Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
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