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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.

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
Humble
Thrice
Whose
Arrows
Level
Distrust
Levels
Pair
Happy
Jealousy
Care
Pairs
Beneath
Heads

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Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
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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.
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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.
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Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
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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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With wisdom fraught not such as books, but such as practice taught.
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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.
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Happy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.
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Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
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To love is to believe, to hope, to know 'Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
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While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
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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.
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He that alone would wise and mighty be,Commands that others love as well as he.Love as he lov'd! - How can we soar so high?-He can add wings when he commands to fly.Nor should we be with this command dismay'dHe that examples gives will give his aid:For he took flesh, that where his precepts fall,His practice, as a pattern, may prevail.
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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.
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Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
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In other things the knowing artist may Judge better than the people but a play, (Made for delight, and for no other use) If you approve it not, has no excuse.
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All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.
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Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
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But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
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The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
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