Quote

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

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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
Would
Knew
Globes
Eyes
Rising
Complies
Though
Clouds
Gilds
Eye
Harm
Beams
Shows
Distance
Hasty
Light
Sun
Beam
Firsts
Sight
Sunrise
First
Weak
Globe

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Others may use the ocean as their road Only the English make it their abode.
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Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
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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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Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade And keeps that palace of the soul serene.
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Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
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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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But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
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Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
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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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Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
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How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
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Virtue's a stronger guard than brass.
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And keeps the palace of the soul.
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With wisdom fraught not such as books, but such as practice taught.
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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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Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.
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Poets that lasting marble seek, Must come in Latin or in Greek.
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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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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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What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, where men regard no God but interest?
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