Edmund Spenser Quotes

Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled, On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.

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.

Roses red and violets blew, And all the sweetest flowres that in the forrest grew.

Her berth was of the wombe of morning dew, And her conception of the joyous Prime.

Into the woods thenceforth in hast she went, To seeke for hearbes, that mote him remedy; For she of hearbes had great intendiment, Taught of the Nymphe, which from her infancy Her nourced had in trew Nobility: There, whether it divine Tobacco were, Or Panachaea, or Polygony, She found, and brought it to her patient deare Who al this while lay bleeding out his hart-bloud neare.

Through thicke and thin, both over banke and bush In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke.

Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound.

And all for love, and nothing for reward.

How oft do they their silver bowers leave To come to succour us that succour want!

And is there care in Heaven? And is there love In heavenly spirits to these Creatures bace?

No 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.

O happy earth, Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!

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.

That darksome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullein mind.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.