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The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
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
Nests
Lying
Lofty
Humble
Field
Shuns
Silent
Lark
Boughs
Build
Larks
Fields
Nest
Lies
More quotes by Edmund Waller
Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
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While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
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Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
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Happy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.
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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
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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Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
Edmund Waller
To man, that was in th' evening made, Stars gave the first delight Admiring, in the gloomy shade, Those little drops of light.
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Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.
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And keeps the palace of the soul.
Edmund Waller
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
Edmund Waller
Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
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Since thou wouldst needs, bewitched with some ill charms, Be buried in those monumental arms: As we can wish, is, may that earth lie light Upon thy tender limbs, and so good night.
Edmund Waller
Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
Edmund Waller
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.
Edmund Waller
Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Edmund Waller
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
Edmund Waller
That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which, on the shaft that made him die, Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
Edmund Waller
Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
Edmund Waller
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
Edmund Waller
