Edmund Spenser Quotes

And as she lookt about, she did behold, How over that same dore was likewise writ, Be bold, be bold, and every where Be bold, That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it By any ridling skill, or commune wit. At last she spyde at that same roomes upper end, Another yron dore, on which was writ, Be not too bold.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne. For a man by nothing is so well bewrayd, As by his manners.

Death slue not him, but he made death his ladder to the skies.

The faithfull knight now grew in litle space, By hearing her, and by her sisters lore, To such perfection of all heavenly grace, That wretched world he gan for to abhore,

Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone,
Whom if ye please, I care for other none.

A monster, which the Blatant beast men call, A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad.

Ay me, how many perils doe enfold The righteous man, to make him daily fall!

"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."

They that haue much, feare much to loose thereby,
And store of cares doth follow riches store.

Yet nothing did he dread, but euer was ydrad.

For all that Nature by her mother-wit Could frame in earth.

Let therefore nought that great is, therein glorie, / Sith so small thing his happiness may varie.

A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine.

So every spirit, as it is most pure,
And hath in it the more of heavenly light,
So it the fairer bodie doth procure
To habit in, and it more fairely dight
With cheerful grace and amiable sight:
For of the soule the bodie forme doth take; For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.

The rolling wheel, that runneth often round,
The hardest steel in tract of time doth tear;
And drizzling drops, that often do redound,
The firmest flint doth in continuance wear:
Yet cannot I, with many a dropping tear,
And long entreaty, soften her hard heart,
That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to hear,
Or look with pity on my painful smart:
But when I plead, she bids me play my part;
And when I weep, she says, "Tears are but water";
And when I sigh, she says, "I know the art";
And when I wail, she turns herself to laughter;
So do I weep and wail, and plead in vain,
Whiles she as steel and flint doth still remain.