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s a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.

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
Nature
Change
Inconstancy
Changes
Constant
Scene

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Nothing in Nature's sober found, But an eternal Health goes round. Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high-- Fill all the Glasses there for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?
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All this world's noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
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What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
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Much will always wanting be To him who much desires.
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Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
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Gold begets in brethren hate Gold in families debate Gold does friendship separate Gold does civil wars create.
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Books should, not Business, entertain the Light And Sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.
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But what is woman? Only one of nature's agreeable blunders.
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Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
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Plenty, as well as Want, can separate friends.
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Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
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Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape Who dost in every country change thy shape!
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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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Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.
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Build yourself a book-nest to forget the world without.
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The present is all the ready money Fate can give.
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The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
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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.
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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.
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