Quotes from Edmund Spenser

For love is a celestial harmony Of likely hearts compos'd of stars' concent, Which join together in sweet sympathy, To work each other's joy and true content, Which they have harbour'd since their first descent Out of their heavenly bowers, where they did see And know each other here belov'd to be.

So furiously each other did assayle, As if their soules they would attonce haue rent Out of their brests, that streames of bloud did rayle Adowne, as if their springes of life were spent; That all the ground with purple bloud was sprent, And all their armours staynd with bloudie gore, Yet scarcely once to breath would they relent, So mortall was their malice and so sore, Become of fayned friendship which they vow'd afore.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion

There is nothing lost, but may be found, if sought. (No hay nada perdido, que no pueda encontrarse, si se lo busca)

I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.

Yet gold all is not, that doth gold seem, Nor all good knights, that shake well spear and shield: The worth of all men by their end esteem, And then praise, or due reproach them yield.

It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: For some, that hath abundance at his will, Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store; And other, that hath litle, askes no more, But in that litle is both rich and wise. For wisedome is most riches; fooles therefore They are, which fortunes doe by vowes deuize, Sith each vnto himselfe his life may fortunize.

And he that strives to touch the stars Oft stumbles at a straw.

One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washèd it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.

Why then should witless man so much misweene That nothing is but that which he hath seene?

He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts; But double griefs afflict concealing harts, As raging flames who striveth to supresse.

What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty.

Aye me, how many perils do enfold The righteous man, to make him daily fall? Were not, that heavenly grace doth him uphold, And steadfast truth acquite him out of all.

Vntroubled night they say giues counsell best.

one louing howre For many yeares of sorrow can dispence: A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sowre

For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds, And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;

His Lady sad to see his sore constraint, Cried out, "Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee, Add faith unto your force, and be not faint: Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee." That when he heard, in great perplexitie, His gall did grate for griefe and high distaine, And knitting all his force got one hand free, Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine.

Then came October full of merry glee . . .

Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.

Gold all is not that doth golden seem.

Fretting grief the enemy of life.

So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre

It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong.

Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,And layes the soul to sleepe in quiet grave?Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please.