Edmund Spenser

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.

And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
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And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore.

And thus of all my harvest-hope I have
Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.

And thus of all my harvest-hope I have
Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care.

For take thy ballaunce if thou be so wise,
And weigh the winds that under heaven doth blow;
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For take thy ballaunce if thou be so wise,
And weigh the winds that under heaven doth blow;
Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise;
Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.