The rosy-fingered morn with gladsome ray Rose to her task from old Tithonus' lap. - Edward Fairfax

Additional quotes by Edward Fairfax

Cupid's deep rivers have their shallow fords,
His griefs, bring joys; his losses, recompenses;
He breeds the sore, and cures us of the pain:
Achilles' lance that wounds and heals again.

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They make their fortune who are stout and wise,
Wit rules the heavens, discretion guides the skies.

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Wayward beauty doth not fancy move,
A frown forbids, a smile engendereth love.

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