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The golden sun rose from the silver wave,And with his beams enamelled every green.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Aurora bright her crystal gates unbarred,And bridegroom-like forth stept the glorious sun.
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Edward Fairfax |
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The rose within herself her sweetness closed.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Better sit still, men say, than rise to fall.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Patience, a praise; forbearance is a treasure;Sufferance, an angel is; a monster, rage.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Base affections fall, when virtue riseth.
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Edward Fairfax |
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The rosy-fingered morn with gladsome rayRose to her task from old Tithonus' lap.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Nature gives beauty, fortune wealth, in vain.
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Edward Fairfax |
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Remembrance is the life of grief; his grave,Forgetfulness.
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Edward Fairfax |
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In their speech is death, hell in their smile.
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Edward Fairfax |