Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
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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The liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
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.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Does not the passage of Moses and the Israelites into the Holy Land yield incomparably more poetic variety than the voyages of Ulysses or Aeneas?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
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 -
Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
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 -
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?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Solitude can be used well by very few people. They who do must have a knowledge of the world to see the foolishness of it, and enough virtue to despise all the vanity.
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY -
Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine!
ABRAHAM COWLEY