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Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
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
Spokes
Spoke
Hath
Language
Art
Part
Tropic
Flanders
Yoke
More quotes by Edmund Waller
To love is to believe, to hope, to know 'Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
Edmund Waller
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
Edmund Waller
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
Happy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.
Edmund Waller
Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
Edmund Waller
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
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
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
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.
Edmund Waller
Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.
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
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
Edmund Waller
The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Edmund Waller
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
Edmund Waller
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Edmund Waller
The fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace And makes all ills that vex us here to cease.
Edmund Waller
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
Edmund Waller
With wisdom fraught not such as books, but such as practice taught.
Edmund Waller
While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
Edmund Waller
What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, where men regard no God but interest?
Edmund Waller
