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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.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Unto
Gates
Compared
Therefore
Sleep
Death
House
Ther
Next
Gate

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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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Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.
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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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Those that were up themselves, kept others low Those that were low themselves, held others hard He suffered them to ryse or greater grow But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.
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The nightingale is sovereign of song.
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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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I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
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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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The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.
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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 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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Unhappie Verse, the witnesse of my unhappie state, Make thy selfe fluttring wings of thy fast flying Thought
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For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.
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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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Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife And fretting grief the enemy of life All these and many evils more, haunt ire.
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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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Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
Edmund Spenser
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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.
Edmund Spenser
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Oft stumbles at a straw.
Edmund Spenser