Fill all the Glasses there; for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
ABRAHAM COWLEYAs for being much known by sight, and pointed out, I cannot comprehend the honor that lies withal; whatsoever it be, every mountebank has it more than the best doctor.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that
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Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
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Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
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Life is an incurable disease.
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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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Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
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To-day is ours; what do we fear? To-day is ours; we have it here. Let’s treat it kindly, that it may Wish, at least, with us to stay.
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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!
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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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Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
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There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
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Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
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Coy Nature, (which remain’d, though aged grown, A beauteous virgin still, enjoy’d by none, Nor seen unveil’d by anyone),
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Hope! fortune’s cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
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His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
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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.
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:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
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God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
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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.
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Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
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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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Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.
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Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
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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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Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep’rate friends.
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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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY