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Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.

Abraham Cowley

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Abraham Cowley
Age: 49 †
Born: 1618
Born: January 1
Died: 1667
Died: July 28
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Prosaist
the City
Nothing
Always
Eternity
Time
Eternal
Lasts
Last
Past
Doe
Come

More quotes by Abraham Cowley

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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, in fields d'or or d'argent but, if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms.
Abraham Cowley
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Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
Abraham Cowley
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Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
Abraham Cowley
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Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends not on number, but the choice of friends.
Abraham Cowley
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Awake, awake, my Lyre!And tell thy silent master's humble taleIn sounds that may prevailSounds that gentle thoughts inspire:Though so exalted sheAnd I so lowly beTell her, such different notes make all thy harmony.
Abraham Cowley
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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.
Abraham Cowley
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There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
Abraham Cowley
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Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
Abraham Cowley
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Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.
Abraham Cowley
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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Abraham Cowley
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Thus would I double my life's fading spaceFor he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
Abraham Cowley
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Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep'rate friends.
Abraham Cowley
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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
Abraham Cowley
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May I a small house and large garden have And a few friends, And many books, both true.
Abraham Cowley
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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
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s a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
Abraham Cowley
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Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
Abraham Cowley
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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
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Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
Abraham Cowley
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Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
Abraham Cowley