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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.

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
Hopeful
Cheap
Cure
Cures
Endure
Healing
Universal
Endures
Hope
Ills

More quotes by Abraham Cowley

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When Israel was from bondage led,Led by the Almighty's handFrom out of foreign land,The great sea beheld and fled.
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All this world's noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!
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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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This only grant me, that my means may lie, too low for envy, for contempt to high.
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Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
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Nay, in death's hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove's.
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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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Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.
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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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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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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
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Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
Abraham Cowley
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His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong his life, I'm sure, was in the right.
Abraham Cowley
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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.
Abraham Cowley
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All the world's bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
Abraham Cowley
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Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.
Abraham Cowley
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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? Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, Thou who art under ground to lie? Thou sow'st and plantest, but no fruit must see, For death, alas! is reaping thee.
Abraham Cowley
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Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
Abraham Cowley
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The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
Abraham Cowley