Edmund Spenser

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

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

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

Like as a feareful partridge, that is fledd
From the sharpe hauke which her attacked neare,
And read more

Like as a feareful partridge, that is fledd
From the sharpe hauke which her attacked neare,
And falls to ground to seeke for succor theare,
Whereas the hungry spaniells she does spye,
With greedy jawes her ready for to teare.

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

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

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes read more

There grewe an aged tree on the greene;
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes full strong and largely displayed,
But of their leaves they were disarayde
The bodie bigge, and mightely pight,
Thoroughly rooted, and of wond'rous hight;
Whilome had bene the king of the field,
And mochell mast to the husband did yielde,
And with his nuts larded many swine:
But now the gray mosse marred his rine;
His bared boughes were beaten with stormes,
His toppe was bald, and wasted with wormes,
His honour decayed, his brauches sere.