Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
ABRAHAM COWLEYBoth 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.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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Man is too near all kinds of beasts,–a fawning dog, a roaring lion, a thieving fox, a robbing wolf, a dissembling crocodile, a treacherous decoy, and a rapacious vulture.
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Why dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, Or what is worse, be left by it? Why dost thou load thyself when thou ‘rt to fly, Oh, man! ordain’d to die?
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To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the city; to be a philosopher, from the world; or rather, a retreat from the world, as it is man’s, into the world, as it is God’s.
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The monster London laugh at me.
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Till the whole stream, which stopped him, should be gone, That runs, and as it runs, for ever will run on.
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When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
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There is some help for all the defects of fortune; for, if a man cannot attain to the length of his wishes, he may have his remedy by cutting of them shorter.
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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
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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.
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Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine!
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The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame
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What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
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The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
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I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that
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This a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
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Nothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high
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Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
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But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
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Why to mute fish should’st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
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The world’s a scene of changes.
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All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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Coy Nature, (which remain’d, though aged grown, A beauteous virgin still, enjoy’d by none, Nor seen unveil’d by anyone),
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Gold begets in brethren hate; Gold in families debate; Gold does friendship separate; Gold does civil wars create.
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His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
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There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
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May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
ABRAHAM COWLEY