Beauty is the bait which with delight allures man to enlarge his kind.— Edmund Spenser
The most jaw-dropping Edmund Spenser quotes that are simple and will have a huge impact on you
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
She bathed with roses red, And violets blew.
And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme;
From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.
Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.
All that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapor, vanish and decay.
Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
Vain-glorious man, when fluttering wind does blow In his light wing's, is lifted up to sky; The scorn of-knighthood and true chivalry. To think, without desert of gentle deed And noble worth, to be advanced high, Such praise is shame, but honour, virtue's meed, Doth bear the fairest flower in honourable seed.
I trow that countenance cannot lie,Whose thoughts are legible in the eie.
Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
A sweet attractive kind of grace, A full assurance given by looks, Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books-- I trow that countenance cannot lye Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
So Orpheus did for his owne bride, So I unto my selfe alone will sing, The woods shall to me answer and my Eccho ring.
All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.
Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
Pour out the wine without restraint or stay, Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful, Pour out to all that wull.
Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
For take thy ballaunce if thou be so wise, And weigh the winds that under heaven doth blow; Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise; Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.
There is no disputing about taste.
Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath;
Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife; And fretting grief the enemy of life; All these and many evils more, haunt ire.
In vain he seeketh others to suppress, Who hath not learn'd himself first to subdue.
Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay.
Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.
The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.
For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,And by eternall doome of Fate's decree,Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?
How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.
Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy.
Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love's delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
And through the hall there walked to and fro A jolly yeoman, marshall of the same, Whose name was Appetite; he did bestow Both guestes and meate, whenever in they came, And knew them how to order without blame.
Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.
The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone.
Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.
What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, As to descry the crafty cunning train, By which deceit doth mask in visor fair, And cast her colours dyed deep in grain, To seem like truth, whose shape she well can feign, And fitting gestures to her purpose frame, The guiltless man with guile to entertain?
Ill seemes (sayd he) if he so valiant be, That he should be so sterne to stranger wight; For seldom yet did living creature see That courtesie and manhood ever disagree.
A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre; And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre.
The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.
How many great ones may remember'd be, Which in their days most famously did flourish, Of whom no word we hear, nor sign now see, But as things wip'd out with a sponge do perish, Because the living cared not to cherish No gentle wits, through pride or covetize, Which might their names forever memorize!
In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.