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 COWLEYWhen Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
-
-
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
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 -
Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb’d as Death, the Night.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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 -
Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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 -
His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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 -
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 -
This a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
“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
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Water and air He for the Tenor chose, Earth made the Base, the Treble Fame arose,
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Gold begets in brethren hate; Gold in families debate; Gold does friendship separate; Gold does civil wars create.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
ABRAHAM COWLEY