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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),

Abraham Cowley

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
There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Earth Fewer Friend King
The present is all the ready money Fate can give.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Fate Giving Money Present Ready
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
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
But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Agree Blunder Nature Woman
Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Conquer Death Over Poet Triumph
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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cutting Defect Fortune Length Man Wish
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
Thus would I double my life’s fading space;For he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Fading Race Running Space Twice
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Life might Nice Perhaps Tenet Wrong
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Charm Fable Fiction Lying Teach Truth Unbind
This only grant me, that my means may lie, too low for envy, for contempt to high.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Contempt Envy Grant High Lying Mean
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
Solitude 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 COWLEY

Few Foolishness People Solitude Vanity
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Laugh Laughing London Monster

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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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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