Awake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master’s humble taleIn sounds that may prevail;Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
Abraham Cowley
Abraham Cowley
Beauty, thou wild fantastic
Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
Abraham Cowley
Neither the praise nor
Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
Abraham Cowley
Much will always wanting
Much will always wanting be
To him who much desires.
Abraham Cowley
Happy insect! what can
Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine! Nature waits upon thee still, And thy verdant cup does fill; ‘Tis fill’d wherever thou dost tread, Nature’s self’s thy Ganymede.
Abraham Cowley
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas
The Sunflow’r, thinking ’twas for him foul shame To nap by daylight, strove t’ excuse the blame; It was not sleep that made him nod, he said, But too great weight and largeness of his head.
Abraham Cowley
Ah! Wretched and
Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
Abraham Cowley
All the world’s bravery
All the world’s bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
Abraham Cowley
Lukewarmness I account a
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
Abraham Cowley
Begin, be bold, and
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,
Till the whole stream, which stopped him, should be gone,
That runs, and as it runs, for ever will run on.
Abraham Cowley