ThursdayAug 28, 2025
Quotes: 53419 Authors: 9969
Edmund Waller, FRS (March 3, 1606 - October 21, 1687) was an English poet and Politician.
The yielding marble of her snowy breast.
How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love. While I listen to thy Voice.
A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that 's good, and all that 's fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, Lets in new light through chinks that Time has made. Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home: Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.
And keeps the palace of the soul.
Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Could we forbear dispute and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.
That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which on the shaft that made him die Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.
In such green palaces the first kings reign'd, Slept in their shades, and angels entertain'd; With such old counsellors they did advise, And by frequenting sacred groves grew wise.
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