In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.
I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.
Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven shined bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
Ah, fool! faint heart fair lady ne'er could win.
Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.
Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love's delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king.
But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.
This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.
But as it falleth, in the gentlest hearts Imperious love hath highest set his throne, And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts Of them, that to him buxom are and prone.
Joy may you have and gentle hearts content Of your loves couplement: And let faire Venus, that is Queene of love, With her heart-quelling Sonne upon you smile
A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
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