The monster London laugh at me.
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.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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Hope! fortune’s cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Curs’d be that wretch (Death’s factor sure) who brought Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught Smiths (who before could only make.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The motions strait, and round, and swift, and slow, And short and long, were mixt and woven so, Did in such artful Figures smoothly fall, As made this decent measur’d dance of all. And this is Musick.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Nay, in death’s hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove’s.
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But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
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May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.
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Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
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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