Quotes from Edmund Spenser

Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.

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

How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.

And all for love, and nothing for reward.

good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greete? What! hath some wolfe thy tender lambes ytorne? Or is thy bagpype broke, that soundes so sweete? Or art thou of thy loved lasse forlorne?

The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.

For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared; Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.

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

Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life does greatly please.

Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.

She heard with patience all unto the end, And strove to maister sorrowful assay, Which greater grew, the more she did contend; And almost rent her tender hart in tway And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay: For greater love, the greater is the losse...

Be judge ye heavens, that all things right esteem, How I him loved, and love with all my might, So thought I eke of him, and thinke I thought aright.

True loves are often sown, but seldom grow on ground.