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Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
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
Known
Discreetly
Half
Blot
Poets
Improvement
Praise
Poet
Lose
Loses
More quotes by Edmund Waller
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
Edmund Waller
Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.
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
Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.
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
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
Fade, flowers, fade! Nature will have it so 'tis but what we in our autumn do.
Edmund Waller
What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, where men regard no God but interest?
Edmund Waller
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
Edmund Waller
Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
Edmund Waller
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
Others may use the ocean as their road Only the English make it their abode.
Edmund Waller
Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
Edmund Waller
While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
Edmund Waller
And keeps the palace of the soul.
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
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.
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
To love is to believe, to hope, to know 'Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
Edmund Waller
How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
Edmund Waller
