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O Gods! that ever anie thing so sweete,
So suddenlie should fade awaie, and fleete!
Hir armes are spread, and I am all unarm’d,
Lyke one with Ovid’s cursed hemlocke charm’d

— Thomas Nashe

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More quotes by Thomas Nashe

From winter, plague, and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

Evermore mayst thou be canonized as the Nonparreille of impious epistlers.

Four Letters (1592)

The Sun shineth as well on the good as the bad: God from on high beholdeth all the workers of iniquity, as well as the upright of heart.

Christ's Tears over Jerusalem (1593)

Blest is that government where no art thrives.

Summer's Last Will and Testament (1600)

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Thomas Nashe (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.