Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one time: For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, And… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love,… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
After her came jolly June, arrayed All in green leaves, as he a player were; Yet in his time he wrought as… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Ah when will this long weary day have end, And lend me leave to come unto my love? How slowly do the… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“All this world's glory seemeth vain to me, And all their shows but shadows, saving she.” — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, The sailing pine,the cedar proud and tall, The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry,… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay; Ah see, who so faire thing doest faine to see, In springing flowre the image… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“There is nothing lost, but may be found, if sought. (No hay nada perdido, que no pueda encontrarse, si se lo busca)” — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: For some, that hath abundance at his… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
