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The fear of Hell, or aiming to be blest, Savors too much of private interest. This moved not Moses, nor the zealous Paul, Who for their friends abandoned soul and all.

Edmund Waller

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Edmund Waller
Age: 81 †
Born: 1606
Born: March 3
Died: 1687
Died: October 21
Poet
Politician
Writer
Coleshill
Buckinghamshire
Gentleman that loves the peace
True son of the Church of England and a lover of his countries liberty
Edmund Waller
Soul
Paul
Much
Abandoned
Private
Moved
Savors
Hell
Blest
Friends
Zealous
Interest
Aiming
Fear
Moses

More quotes by Edmund Waller

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To man, that was in th' evening made, Stars gave the first delight Admiring, in the gloomy shade, Those little drops of light.
Edmund Waller
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Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
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Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.
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Thrice happy is that humble pair, Beneath the level of all care! Over whose heads those arrows fly, Of sad distrust and jealousy.
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Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
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How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
Edmund Waller
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The rising sun complies with our weak sight, First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light At such a distance from our eyes, as though He knew what harm his hasty beams would do.
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Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.
Edmund Waller
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While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
Edmund Waller
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Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
Edmund Waller
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With wisdom fraught not such as books, but such as practice taught.
Edmund Waller
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Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
Edmund Waller
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The fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace And makes all ills that vex us here to cease.
Edmund Waller
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Poets may boast (as safely-vain) Their work shall with the world remain: Both bound together, live, or die, The verses and the prophecy. But who can hope his lines shou'd long Last, in a daily changing tongue? While they are new, envy prevails, And as that dies, our language fails.
Edmund Waller
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And keeps the palace of the soul.
Edmund Waller
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Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
Edmund Waller
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His kingdom come! For this we pray in vain, Unless He does in our affections reign. How fond it were to wish for such a King, And no obedience to his sceptre bring, Whose yoke is easy, and His burthen light His service freedom, and His judgments right.
Edmund Waller
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What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, where men regard no God but interest?
Edmund Waller
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Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
Edmund Waller
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Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
Edmund Waller