"Most glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day, Didst make thy triumph over death and sin: And, having harrowd hell, didst bring away, Captivity thence captive, us to win."

"So let us love, deare Love, lyke as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught."

"Fresh spring the herald of loves mighty king, In whose cote armour richly are displayd All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayd."

"Tell her the joyous Time will not be staid, Unlesse she doe him by the forelock take."

"Sweet Spenser, sweetest bard; yet not more sweet Than pure was he, and not more pure than wise, High priest of all the Muses' mysteries."

"Make hast therefore sweet love, whilest it is prime, For none can call againe the passed time."

"One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Agayne I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tyde, and made my paynes his pray. Vayne man, sayd she, that doest in vaine assay, A mortall thing so to immortalize. For I my selve shall lyke to this decay, And eek my name bee wyped out lykewize. Not so, (quod I) let baser things devize, To dy in dust, but you shall live by fame: My verse your vertues rare shall eternize, And in the hevens wryte your glorious name. Where whenas death shall all the world subdew, Our love shall live, and later life renew."

"Open the temple gates unto my love, Open them wide that she may enter in."

"Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes, And blesseth her with his two happy hands."

"Ah, when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love?"

"Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights, Ne let mischievous witches with their charmes, Ne let hob goblins, names whose sence we see not, Fray us with things that be not."

"Song made in lieu of many ornaments, With which my love should duly have bene dect."

"Calm was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play— A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair."

"Sweete Themmes runne softly, till I end my Song."

"There, in a Meadow, by the Rivers side, A flocke of Nymphes I chaunced to espy, All lovely Daughters of the Flood thereby, With goodly greenish locks all loose untyde, As each had bene a Bryde."

"With that I saw two swans of goodly hue Come softly swimming down along the Lee: Two fairer birds I yet did never see; The snow which doth the top of Pindus strow Did never whiter show, Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be For love of Leda, whiter did appear."

"So purely white they were, That even the gentle streame, the which them bare, Seem’d foule to them, and bad his billowes spare To wet their silken feathers, least they might Soyle their fair plumes with water not so fayre, And mar their beauties bright, That shone as heavens light."

"At length they all to mery London came, To mery London, my most kindly Nurse, That to me gave this lifes first native sourse."

"That beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, An outward shew of things, that only seem."

"So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer bodie doth procure To habit in, and it more fairely dight With cheerful grace and amiable sight: For of the soule the bodie forme doth take; For the soule is forme, and doth the bodie make."

"For all that faire is, is by nature good; That is a signe to know the gentle blood."

"Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song."

"A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine."

"But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad."

"The noblest mind the best contentment has."

"A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name Great Gorgon, Prince of darknesse and dead night."

"As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place."

"Ay me, how many perils doe enfold The righteous man, to make him daily fall!"

"As when in Cymbrian plaine An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting, Doe for the milky mothers want complaine, And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing."

"Entire affection hateth nicer hands."

"That darksome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullein mind."

"Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease, And layes the soul to sleepe in quiet grave? Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas, Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please."

"O happy earth, Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!"

"No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd."

"And is there care in Heaven? And is there love In heavenly spirits to these Creatures bace?"

"How oft do they their silver bowers leave To come to succour us that succour want!"

"And all for love, and nothing for reward."

"Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound."

"Through thicke and thin, both over banke and bush In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke."

"Into the woods thenceforth in hast she went, To seeke for hearbes, that mote him remedy; For she of hearbes had great intendiment, Taught of the Nymphe, which from her infancy Her nourced had in trew Nobility: There, whether it divine Tobacco were, Or Panachaea, or Polygony, She found, and brought it to her patient deare Who al this while lay bleeding out his hart-bloud neare."

"Her berth was of the wombe of morning dew, And her conception of the joyous Prime."

"Roses red and violets blew, And all the sweetest flowres that in the forrest grew."

"And as she lookt about, she did behold, How over that same dore was likewise writ, Be bold, be bold, and every where Be bold, That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it By any ridling skill, or commune wit. At last she spyde at that same roomes upper end, Another yron dore, on which was writ, Be not too bold."

"Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled, On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled."

"For all that Nature by her mother-wit Could frame in earth."

"As withered weed through cruell winters tine, That feeles the warmth of sunny beames reflection, Liftes up his head, that did before decline And gins to spread his leafe before the faire sunshine."

"Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square, From the first point of his appointed sourse, And being once amisse growes daily wourse and wourse."

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

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

"But Justice, though her dome [doom] she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right."