Edmund Spenser

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Sleep after Toil, Port after stormy Seas,
Ease after War, Death after Life, does greatly please.

And all for love, and nothing for reward.

The poets' scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.

He that strives to touch the starts, oft stumbles at a straw.

Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.

Her angel's face,
As the great eye of heaven shined bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place.

And he that strives to touch the stars, Oft stumbles at a straw.