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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
Lose
Loses
Known
Discreetly
Half
Blot
Poets
Improvement
Praise
Poet

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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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Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
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How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
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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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Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
Edmund Waller
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What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, where men regard no God but interest?
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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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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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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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Fade, flowers, fade! Nature will have it so 'tis but what we in our autumn do.
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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.
Edmund Waller
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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.
Edmund Waller
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The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made.
Edmund Waller
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Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
Edmund Waller
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Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
Edmund Waller
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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.
Edmund Waller
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Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.
Edmund Waller
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To love is to believe, to hope, to know 'Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
Edmund Waller
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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.
Edmund Waller