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I want my careless song to strike no minor key; no fiend to stand between my body's Southern song the fusion of the South, my body's song and me. Dr. Margaret Abigail Walker Alexander		Tuesday Feb 17, 2026
		Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969

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The ever-whirling wheel Of Change, to which all mortal things doth sway. Edmund Spenser

Quote Author: Edmund Spenser

Edmund Spenser

Edmund Spenser

Edmund Spenser (c. 1552 - 13 January 1599) was an English poet and Poet Laureate. Spenser is a controversial figure due to his zeal for the destruction of Irish culture and colonisation of Ireland, yet he is one of the premier craftsmen of Modern English verse in its infancy.

Spenser is best known for The Faerie Queene , an epic poem celebrating, through fantastical allegory, the Tudor dynasty and Elizabeth I.

Other Edmund Spenser Quotes

A stern discipline pervades all nature, which is a little cruel that it may be very kind.

And all for love, and nothing for reward.

Beauty is the bait which with delight Allures man to enlarge his kind.

For take thy balance if thou be so wise, And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow; Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise; Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.

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

The ever-whirling wheel Of Change, to which all mortal things doth sway.

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

It is the mind that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor.

So now they have made our English tongue a gallimaufry or hodgepodge of all other speeches.

For 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.

What more felicity can fall to creature, Than to enjoy delight with liberty.

The gentle man by gentle deeds in known. For a man by nothing is so well bewrayed, As by his manners.

All that in this delightful garden grows, Should happy be, and have immortal bliss.

Though last, not least.

All for love and nothing for reward.

Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?

Roses red, and violets blue, And all the sweetest flowers, that in the forest grew.

But times do change and move continually.

Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.

How over that same door was likewise writ, Be bold, be bold, and everywhere be bold,

Another iron door, on which was writ, Be not too bold.

Gather 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.

For of the soul the body form doth take: For soul is form, and and doth the body make.