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Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.

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
Our yesterday’s to-morrow now is gone, And still a new to-morrow does come on. We by to-morrow draw out all our store, Till the exhausted well can yield no more.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Doe Draw Gone Morrow New Store Yesterday Yield
Fill all the Glasses there; for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Creature Drink Every Glass Man Moral Tell
All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Act Appear Comedy Dull Noise World
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
Water and air He for the Tenor chose, Earth made the Base, the Treble Fame arose,
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Active Arose Chose Fall Fame Moon Music Tenor
The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Consist Country Law Man Themselves
Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Acquaintance Choice Depend Friendship Number
Let’s banish business, banish sorrow; To the gods belong to-morrow.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Banish Belong Business God Morrow Sorrow
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

Artful Figure Mixt Motion Slow Strait Swift Woven
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
Gold begets in brethren hate; Gold in families debate; Gold does friendship separate; Gold does civil wars create.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Beget Brethren Debate Family Gold Hate War
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
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Laugh Laughing London Monster
Nay, in death’s hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove’s.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Hand Jove Prove Stone Strong Thunder
Both wise, and both delightful too. And since Love ne’er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as Guardian angels are, Only belov’d and loving me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Delightful Flee From Guardian Moderate Since Wise

Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.

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Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.

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Popular Authors

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