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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!

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Men
Teach
Living
War
Cursed
Spirit
Woe
Firsts
Bite
First
Bites
Way
Steel
Make
Flesh

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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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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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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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I learned have, not to despise,What ever thing seemes small in common eyes.
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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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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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For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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What more felicitie can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with libertie, And to be lord of all the workes of Nature, To raine in th' aire from earth to highest skie, To feed on flowres and weeds of glorious feature.
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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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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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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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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
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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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There learned arts do flourish in great honour And poets's wits are had in peerless price Religion hath lay power, to rest upon her, Advancing virtue, and suppressing vice. For end all good, all grace there freely grows, Had people grace it gratefully to use: For God His gifts there plenteously bestows, But graceless men them greatly do abuse.
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All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
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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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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.
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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
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