Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
ABRAHAM COWLEYWhy 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.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
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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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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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What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
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Life is an incurable disease.
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Nothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high
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The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man’s left to epitomize!
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The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
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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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“We may talk what we please,” he cries in his enthusiasm for the oldest of the arts, “of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles
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Why to mute fish should’st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
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May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
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Nay, in death’s hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove’s.
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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
ABRAHAM COWLEY