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And keeps the palace of the soul.

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
Keeps
Soul
Palace
Palaces

More quotes by Edmund Waller

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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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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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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.
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All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.
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Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
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Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
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Others may use the ocean as their road Only the English make it their abode.
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Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
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While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
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Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
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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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The fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace And makes all ills that vex us here to cease.
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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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Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
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But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
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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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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.
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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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Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
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