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Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.

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Conquer Death Over Poet Triumph

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, Thou who art under ground to lie? Thou sow’st and plantest, but no fruit must see, For death, alas! is reaping thee.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Build Fruit Ground m Strategy Plantest Under
Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Appreciation Blame Own Praise
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Laugh Laughing London Monster
All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bravery Delight Eye Several World
Nothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bowl Drinking Eternal Fill Glass Man Nature Round Sober
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Blame Excuse Made Nap Shame Sleep Strove Sunflow Thinking
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Life might Nice Perhaps Tenet Wrong
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Home Larger Prison Room World
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Come Doe Eternal Last Past Time
To-day is ours; what do we fear? To-day is ours; we have it here. Let’s treat it kindly, that it may Wish, at least, with us to stay.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Least May Our Sorrow Treat Wish
Begin, be bold, and venture to be wise, He who defers this work from day to day, Does on a river’s bank expecting stay
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bank Day Expecting Running Time Wise
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Build Eternity Isthmus Life Proudly Two
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Great Love Lukeawarmness Religion Sin
Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; ‘Tis fill’d wherever thou dost tread, Nature’s self’s thy Ganymede.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cup Dost Ganymede Nature Self Thee Tread Upon Verdant Wait
Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb’d as Death, the Night.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Book Business Death Entertain Light Night Sleep
Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Best Book Come Friend Leading

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