Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
ABRAHAM COWLEYTo th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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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 -
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 -
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame
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 -
It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
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 -
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!
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep’rate friends.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
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