Edmund Waller, FRS (3 March 1606 – 21 October 1687) was an English poet and politician who sat in the House of Commons at various times between 1624 and 1679.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.
Poets may boast (as safely-vain) Their work shall with the world remain: Both bound together, live, or die, The verses and the prophecy. But who can hope his lines shou'd long Last, in a daily changing tongue? While they are new, envy prevails, And as that dies, our language fails.
Could we forbear dispute, and practice love,We should agree as angels do above. Where love presides, not vice alone does findNo entrance there, hut virtues stay behind:Both faith, and hope, and all the meaner trainOf mortal virtues, at the door remain. Love only enters as a native there,For born in heav'n, it does but sojourn here.
While we converse with her, we mark No want of day, nor think it dark.
Ingenious to their ruin, every age improves the art and instruments of rage.
Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode.
Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
Consent in virtue knit your hearts so fast, That still the knot, in spite of death, does last; For as your tears, and sorrow-wounded soul, Prove well that on your part this bond is whole, So all we know of what they do above, Is that they happy are, and that they love. Let dark oblivion, and the hollow grave, Content themselves our frailer thoughts to have; Well-chosen love is never taught to die, But with our nobler part invades the sky.
The chain that's fixed to the throne of Jove, On which the fabric of our world depends, One link dissolved, the whole creation ends.
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
And keeps the palace of the soul.
Give us enough but with a sparing hand.
He that alone would wise and mighty be,Commands that others love as well as he. Love as he lov'd! - How can we soar so high?-He can add wings when he commands to fly. Nor should we be with this command dismay'd;He that examples gives will give his aid:For he took flesh, that where his precepts fall,His practice, as a pattern, may prevail.
Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.
Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired.
Happy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
All things but one you can restore; the heart you get returns no more.