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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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Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Always Desire Much Want
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cheerful Rose Smile Temple Twine Wine
All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bravery Delight Eye Several World
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Age Come Known Own Reputation
Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Curiosity Devotion Doe Less Pilgrim
Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Appreciation Blame Own Praise
There is some help for all the defects of fortune; for, if a man cannot attain to the length of his wishes, he may have his remedy by cutting of them shorter.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cutting Defect Fortune Length Man Wish
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
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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Delightful Flee From Guardian Moderate Since Wise
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Blame Excuse Made Nap Shame Sleep Strove Sunflow Thinking
But what is woman? Only one of nature’s agreeable blunders.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Agree Blunder Nature Woman
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
The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man’s left to epitomize!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Art Epitomize Left Man Plough Share Spade
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
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cain City First Garden God Made
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

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