Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEYThe monster London laugh at me.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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Build yourself a book-nest to forget the world without.
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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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I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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Ah, yet, e’er I descend to th’ grave, May I a small House and a large Garden have. And a few Friends, and many Books both true
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But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
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His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
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I might be master at last of a small house and a large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life to the culture of them and the study of nature.
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Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
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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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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
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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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Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
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Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
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Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th’ approaches of the last.
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The liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country.
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The world’s a scene of changes.
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When Israel was from bondage led,Led by the Almighty’s handFrom out of foreign land,The great sea beheld and fled.
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Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
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The present is all the ready money Fate can give.
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What a brave privilege is it to be free from all contentions, from all envying or being envied, from receiving or paying all kinds of ceremonies!
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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!
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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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Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
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Life is an incurable disease.
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The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY