Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,For that your self ye daily such doe see:But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:But onely that is permanent and freeFrom frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.That is true beautie: that doth argue youTo be divine and borne of heavenly seed:Deriv'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al trueAnd perfect beauty did at first proceed.He onely fayre, and what he fayre hath made,All other fayre lyke flowres untymely fade.

Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,For that your self ye daily such doe see:But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:But onely that is permanent and freeFrom frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.That is true beautie: that doth argue youTo be divine and borne of heavenly seed:Deriv'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al trueAnd perfect beauty did at first proceed.He onely fayre, and what he fayre hath made,All other fayre lyke flowres untymely fade.

Edmund Spenser
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Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,For that your self ye daily such doe see:But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:But onely that is permanent and freeFrom frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.That is true beautie: that doth argue youTo be divine and borne of heavenly seed:Deriv'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al trueAnd perfect beauty did at first proceed.He onely fayre, and what he fayre hath made,All other fayre lyke flowres untymely fade.

Edmund Spenser, Amoretti and Epithalamion
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Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.

Edmund Spenser
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The poets' scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives all else is claimed by death.

Edmund Spenser
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Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life does greatly please.

Edmund Spenser
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It is the mind that maketh good of ill that maketh wretch or happy rich or poor.

Edmund Spenser
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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
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The poet's scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. The Genius survives all else is claimed by death.

Edmund Spenser
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I hate the day, because it lendeth lightTo see all things, but not my love to see.

Edmund Spenser, Daphna
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One day I wrote her name upon the strand,But came the waves and washèd it away:Again I wrote it with a second hand,But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.

Edmund Spenser, Amoretti and Epithalamion
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Why then should witless man so much misweeneThat nothing is but that which he hath seene?

Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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