All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
ABRAHAM COWLEYThe spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man’s left to epitomize!
More Abraham Cowley Quotes
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Let’s banish business, banish sorrow; To the gods belong to-morrow.
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Curs’d be that wretch (Death’s factor sure) who brought Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught Smiths (who before could only make.
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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.
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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.
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Why to mute fish should’st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
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Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
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When Harvey’s violent passion she did see, Began to tremble and to flee; Took sanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree
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Life is an incurable disease.
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Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
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A mighty pain to love it is, And ’tis a pain that pain to miss; But, of all pains, the greatest pain Is to love, but love in vain.
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His time’s forever, everywhere his place.
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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 -
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
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As 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.
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Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
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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.
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The world’s a scene of changes.
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The monster London laugh at me.
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Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
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Ah, yet, e’er I descend to th’ grave, May I a small House and a large Garden have. And a few Friends, and many Books both true
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The present is an eternal now.
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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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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
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Begin, be bold, and venture to be wise, He who defers this work from day to day, Does on a river’s bank expecting stay
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There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
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Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
ABRAHAM COWLEY