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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

His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Everywhere Forever Place Time
There Daphne’s Lover stopped, and thought it much The very leaves of her to touch: But Harvey, our Apollo, stopp’d not so; Into the Bark and Root he after her did go!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Apollo Daphne Harvey Leave Lover Stop Stopped Touch
I confess I love littleness almost in all things. A little convenient estate, a little cheerful house, a little company, and a little feast.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cheerful Company Confess Convenient Estate House Little
Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep’rate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Danger Equal Extreme Friend Want
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

Build Fruit Ground m Strategy Plantest Under
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
Nothing in Nature’s sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bowl Drinking Eternal Fill Glass Man Nature Round Sober
Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Doubt. Time Enough Giving Life
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

Angel Book Descend Few Friend Garden Grave House Small Wise
Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Among Dwell Jasmin Reason Rose Smell
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Charm Fable Fiction Lying Teach Truth Unbind
To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the city; to be a philosopher, from the world; or rather, a retreat from the world, as it is man’s, into the world, as it is God’s.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

City Husbandman Man Philosopher Retreat World
Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Friend Plenty Separate Want Well
Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cottage Country Humble Meanest Palace Proud Scorn Sleep
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Age Come Known Own Reputation
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th’ approaches of the last.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Approach Being Enjoy Last Past Thankful Time
Why dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, Or what is worse, be left by it? Why dost thou load thyself when thou ‘rt to fly, Oh, man! ordain’d to die?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Art Dost Heap Left Lying Man Wealth Worse
Begin, be bold, and venture to be wise, He who defers this work from day to day, Does on a river’s bank expecting stay
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bank Day Expecting Running Time Wise
All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bravery Delight Eye Several World
There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Earth Fewer Friend King
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

Art Fate Man Money Present Wise
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
Does not the passage of Moses and the Israelites into the Holy Land yield incomparably more poetic variety than the voyages of Ulysses or Aeneas?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Aenea Bible Holy Incomparably More Mose Passage Poetic Yield
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
Coy Nature, (which remain’d, though aged grown, A beauteous virgin still, enjoy’d by none, Nor seen unveil’d by anyone),
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Anyone Enjoy Nature Passion Science Still Virgin
All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Act Appear Comedy Dull Noise World
To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Active Brisk Gave Grave Moon Quick Saturn Sore

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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