Maxioms by Edmund Spenser
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
Yet was he but a squire of low degree.
Yet was he but a squire of low degree.
O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!
O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!
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.
Don Chaucer. well of English undefyled
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
Don Chaucer. well of English undefyled
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
