When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
ABRAHAM COWLEYWhen Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
ABRAHAM COWLEYPlenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEYNature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; ‘Tis fill’d wherever thou dost tread, Nature’s self’s thy Ganymede.
ABRAHAM COWLEYNothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high
ABRAHAM COWLEYTill the whole stream, which stopped him, should be gone, That runs, and as it runs, for ever will run on.
ABRAHAM COWLEYAh! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
ABRAHAM COWLEYAcquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
ABRAHAM COWLEYAwake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master’s humble taleIn sounds that may prevail;Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire
ABRAHAM COWLEYNothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
ABRAHAM COWLEYHope! fortune’s cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
ABRAHAM COWLEYSolitude can be used well by very few people. They who do must have a knowledge of the world to see the foolishness of it, and enough virtue to despise all the vanity.
ABRAHAM COWLEYEnjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th’ approaches of the last.
ABRAHAM COWLEYAnd 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 COWLEYHope is the most hopeless thing of all.
ABRAHAM COWLEYIt 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