Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.
Edmund SpenserMuch can they praise the trees so straight and high, The sailing pine,the cedar proud and tall, The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry, The builder oak, sole king of forests all, The aspin good for staves, the cypress funeral, The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors And poets sage, the fir that weepest still, The yew obedient to the bender's will, The birch for shafts, the sallow for the mill, The myrrh sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound, The warlike beech, the ash for nothing ill, The fruitful olive, and the platane round, The carver holm, the maple seldom inward sound.
Edmund SpenserOne 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.
Edmund SpenserHer angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
Edmund SpenserThe poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.
Edmund SpenserFly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
Edmund SpenserIn one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
Edmund SpenserFor since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
Edmund SpenserNo daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
Edmund SpenserWoe to the man that first did teach the cursed steel to bite in his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit!
Edmund SpenserHe oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts; But double griefs afflict concealing harts, As raging flames who striveth to supresse.
Edmund SpenserWhat though the sea with waves continuall Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all ; Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought : For whatsoever from one place doth fall Is with the tyde unto another brought : For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.
Edmund SpenserThis iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
Edmund SpenserFor deeds to die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men to as themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for ay.
Edmund SpenserGather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.
Edmund SpenserSo 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.
Edmund SpenserOne 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. Vain man (said she) that dost in vain assay A mortal thing so to immortalise; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wipèd out likewise. Not so (quod I); let baser things devise To die in dust, but you shall live by fame; My verse your virtues rare shall eternise, And in the heavens write your glorious name: Where, when as Death shall all the world subdue, Our love shall live, and later life renew.
Edmund SpenserAh! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion
Edmund Spenser