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Awake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master’s humble taleIn sounds that may prevail;Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire

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Awake Humble Inspire May Prevail Sound Talent

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

A mighty pain to love it is, And ’tis a pain that pain to miss; But, of all pains, the greatest pain Is to love, but love in vain.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Fear Kindly Least Life Love May might Pain Treat
The world’s a scene of changes.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Change Nature Scene World
Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Always Desire Much Want
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Age Come Known Own Reputation
Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Drooping Encouragement Hard Praise Spirit Work
It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Head Largeness Made Sleep Wight
Till the whole stream, which stopped him, should be gone, That runs, and as it runs, for ever will run on.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Ever Gone Run Stream Whole Will
His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Everywhere Forever Place Time
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
This a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Change Constant Nature Scene
There Daphne’s Lover stopped, and thought it much The very leaves of her to touch: But Harvey, our Apollo, stopp’d not so; Into the Bark and Root he after her did go!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Apollo Daphne Harvey Leave Lover Stop Stopped Touch
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th’ approaches of the last.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Approach Being Enjoy Last Past Thankful Time
When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Daphne Flee Harvey Passion Sanctuary Tree Tremble Violent
And I myself a Catholic will be, So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee. Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow On us, the Poets militant below.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Best Care Catholic Great Now Religion Saint Triumphant
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Home Larger Prison Room World
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Laugh Laughing London Monster

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