Edmund Spenser
Edmund Spenser
Edmund Spenserwas an English poet best known for The Faerie Queene, an epic poem and fantastical allegory celebrating the Tudor dynasty and Elizabeth I. He is recognized as one of the premier craftsmen of nascent Modern English verse, and is often considered one of the greatest poets in the English language...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
fate heaven might
For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,And by eternall doome of Fate's decree,Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.
hope mercy having-hope
Who will not mercy unto others show, How can he mercy ever hope to have?
change moving
But times do change and move continually.
grief epic flames
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts; But double griefs afflict concealing harts, As raging flames who striveth to supresse.
greatness rich-or-poor mind
The mind maketh good or ill, wretch or happy, rich or poor.
autumn october glee
Then came October, full of merry glee.
flower rose red
She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
gratitude cheer garden
All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
spring player iron
After her came jolly June, arrayed All in green leaves, as he a player were; Yet in his time he wrought as well as played, That by his plough-irons mote right well appear. Upon a crab he rode, that did him bear, With crooked crawling steps, an uncouth pace, And backward rode, as bargemen wont to fare, Bending their force contrary to their face; Like that ungracious crew which feigns demurest grace.
depressing pain pleasure
And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
life wise love-is
To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.
broken-heart heartbreak hate
I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.
sweet time spring
There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one time: For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime, And eke attonce the heavy trees they climb, Which seem to labour under their fruits load: The whiles the joyous birds make their pastime Amongst the shady leaves, their sweet above, And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.
time moving numbers
Ah when will this long weary day have end, And lend me leave to come unto my love? How slowly do the hours their numbers spend! How slowly does sad Time his feathers move!