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
ABRAHAM COWLEYHis time’s forever, everywhere his place.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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!
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep’rate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Man is too near all kinds of beasts,–a fawning dog, a roaring lion, a thieving fox, a robbing wolf, a dissembling crocodile, a treacherous decoy, and a rapacious vulture.
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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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Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, Thou who art under ground to lie? Thou sow’st and plantest, but no fruit must see, For death, alas! is reaping thee.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
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Hope! fortune’s cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
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The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government
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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.
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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