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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.

Abraham Cowley

Curs’d be that wretch (Death’s factor sure) who brought Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught Smiths (who before could only make.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Art Fate Man Money Present Wise
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
The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man’s left to epitomize!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Art Epitomize Left Man Plough Share Spade
Both wise, and both delightful too. And since Love ne’er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as Guardian angels are, Only belov’d and loving me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Delightful Flee From Guardian Moderate Since Wise
I confess I love littleness almost in all things. A little convenient estate, a little cheerful house, a little company, and a little feast.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cheerful Company Confess Convenient Estate House Little
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Home Larger Prison Room World
Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Believe Hope Hopeless Thing
Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Always Desire Much Want
Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Appreciation Blame Own Praise
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
It is a hard and nice subject for a man to speak of himself: it grates his own heart to say anything of disparagement, and the reader’s ear to hear anything of praise from him.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Disparagement Hard Heart Man Nice Speak Subject
Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Company Life Solitary Wretched
Fill all the Glasses there; for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Creature Drink Every Glass Man Moral Tell
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
Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Conquer Death Over Poet Triumph
The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Consist Country Law Man Themselves

For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.

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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.

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