Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
ABRAHAM COWLEYThe liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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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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Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb’d as Death, the Night.
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The present is all the ready money Fate can give.
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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.
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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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Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
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I confess I love littleness almost in all things. A little convenient estate, a little cheerful house, a little company, and a little feast.
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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.
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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
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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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It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
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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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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.
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To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.
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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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Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th’ approaches of the last.
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His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
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Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine!
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Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
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I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that
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Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
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Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.
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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?
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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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Let’s banish business, banish sorrow; To the gods belong to-morrow.
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Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
ABRAHAM COWLEY