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Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time.
Edmund Spenser
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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Call
Make
Whilst
Time
Haste
Love
Prime
Passed
None
Therefore
Sweet
More quotes by Edmund Spenser
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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Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.
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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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This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state for misery doth bravest minds abate.
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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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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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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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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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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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Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.
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In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
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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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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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A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
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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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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
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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
Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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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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