Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Hasty wrath and heedless hazardy do breed repentance late and lasting infamy. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“Wrath, gealosie, griefe, loue do thus expell: Wrath is a fire, and gealosie a weede, Griefe is a flood, and loue a… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath; Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancor's rusty knife;… — 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
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
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
“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
Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
“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
“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
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
I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
“For love is a celestial harmony Of likely hearts compos'd of stars' concent, Which join together in sweet sympathy, To work each other's joy… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life does greatly please. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
