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Music is the arithmetic of sounds as optics is the geometry of light. Achille-Claude Debussy		Thursday Nov 21, 2024
		Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969

About 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.

Popular Edmund Spenser Quotes

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

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.

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

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

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

But times do change and move continually.

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

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

All for love and nothing for reward.

Though last, not least.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

And all for love, and nothing for reward.

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

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