Maxioms by Edmund Spenser
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.
And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.
O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!
O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
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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 prey.
Virtue may be cheerful without forgetting its dignity.
Virtue may be cheerful without forgetting its dignity.
