Quotes
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My love is like to ice, and I to fire;
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not delay’d by her heart-frozen cold;
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold!
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice;
And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by...
Edmund Spenser
His Lady sad to see his sore constraint, Cried out, "Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee, Add faith unto your force, and be not faint: Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee." That when he heard, in great perplexitie, His gall did grate for griefe and high distaine, And knitting all his force got one hand free, Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine.
Edmund Spenser
O but," quoth she, "great griefe will not be tould, And can more easily be thought, then said." "Right so"; quoth he, "but he, that never would, Could never: will to might gives greatest aid." "But grief," quoth she, "does great grow displaid, If then it find not helpe, and breedes despaire." "Despaire breedes not," quoth he, "where faith is staid." "No faith so fast," quoth she, "but flesh does paire."Flesh may empaire," quoth he, "but reason can repaire.
Edmund Spenser
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