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Things temporal are sweeter in the expectation, things eternal are sweeter in the fruition the first shames thy hope, the second crowns it it is a vain journey, whose end affords less pleasure than the way.

Francis Quarles

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Francis Quarles
Age: 52 †
Born: 1592
Born: May 8
Died: 1644
Died: September 8
Author
Poet
Writer
Havering
Less
Vain
Shames
Hope
Shame
Affords
Ends
Expectations
Fruition
Firsts
Whose
Sweeter
First
Eternal
Temporal
Way
Journey
Crowns
Things
Second
Expectation
Pleasure
Anticipation

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Hath any wronged thee? be bravely revenged slight it, and the work is begun forgive it, and it is finished he is below himself that is not above an injury.
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Poor thieves in halters we behold And great thieves in their chains of gold.
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With a bloody flux of oaths vows deep revenge.
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Lust is an immoderate wantonness of the flesh, a sweet poison, a cruel pestilence a pernicious poison, which weakeneth the body of man, and effeminateth the strength of the heroic mind.
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Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear?
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Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance of hatred turns malice.
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No labor is hard, no time is long, wherein the glory of eternity is the mark we level at.
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Physicians, of all men, are most happy whatever good success soever they have, the world proclaimeth and what faults they commit, the earth covereth.
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Deliberate long before thou consecrate a friend, and when thy impartial justice concludes him worthy of thy bosom, receive him joyfully, and entertain him wisely impart thy secrets boldly, and mingle thy thoughts with his: he is thy very self and use him so if thou firmly think him faithful, thou makest him so.
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He that hath no cross deserves no crown.
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Even as the needle that directs the hour, (Touched with the loadstone) by the secret power Of hidden Nature, points upon the pole Even so the wavering powers of my soul, Touch'd by the virtue of Thy spirit, flee From what is earth, and point alone to Thee.
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Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap Of wanton Dalilah the world's a trap.
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Think not thy love to God merits God's love to thee His acceptance of thy duty crowns His own gifts in thee man's love to God is nothing but a faint reflection of God's love to man.
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For trash and toys, And grief-engend'ring joys, What torment seems too sharp for flesh and blood What bitter pills, Compos'd of real ills, Men swallow down to purchase one false good!
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Put off thy cares with thy clothes so shall thy rest strengthen thy labour, and so shall thy labour sweeten thy rest.
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The fountain of beauty is the heart and every generous thought illustrates the walls of your chamber.
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Heaven finds an ear when sinners find a tongue.
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Afflictions clarify the soul And like hard masters, give more hard directions, Tutoring the non-age of uncurbed affections.
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Be wisely worldly, but not worldly wise.
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