black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.

Abraham Cowley

Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Build Eternity Isthmus Life Proudly Two
Awake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master’s humble taleIn sounds that may prevail;Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Awake Humble Inspire May Prevail Sound Talent
I confess I love littleness almost in all things. A little convenient estate, a little cheerful house, a little company, and a little feast.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cheerful Company Confess Convenient Estate House Little
His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Everywhere Forever Place Time
“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

Art Eagle Enthusiasm Garden Lion Oldest Please Talk
Let’s banish business, banish sorrow; To the gods belong to-morrow.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Banish Belong Business God Morrow Sorrow
What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Age Come Known Own Reputation
Hope! fortune’s cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cheating Fortune Hope Hundred Prize
Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Doubt. Time Enough Giving Life
The monster London laugh at me.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Laugh Laughing London Monster
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

Aenea Bible Holy Incomparably More Mose Passage Poetic Yield
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

Art Dost Heap Left Lying Man Wealth Worse
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

Doe Draw Gone Morrow New Store Yesterday Yield
All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Bravery Delight Eye Several World
Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb’d as Death, the Night.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Book Business Death Entertain Light Night Sleep
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
Why to mute fish should’st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Discover Less Lover Mute Silent Thyself
Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Company Life Solitary Wretched
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
When Israel was from bondage led,Led by the Almighty’s handFrom out of foreign land,The great sea beheld and fled.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Almighty Bondage Country God Great Land Sea
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

Covetousness Desire House Master Moderate Small Strong
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
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

Action God Governed Law Life Made Man Own Private Time
Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Conquer Death Over Poet Triumph
Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Betray Gem Jewel Lying Night Stone Unseen
I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Cloud Display Fate Fear Morrow Night Wish
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
ABRAHAM COWLEY

Life might Nice Perhaps Tenet Wrong

To th’ active Moon a quick brisk stroke he gave, To Saturn’s string a touch more sore and grave.

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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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Popular Authors

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