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To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the city to be a philosopher, from the world or rather, a retreat from the world, as it is man's, into the world, as it is God's.
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
City
Cities
Rather
Men
World
Husbandman
Retreat
Philosopher
More quotes by Abraham Cowley
For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
Abraham Cowley
To-day is ours what do we fear? To-day is ours we have it here. Let's treat it kindly, that it may Wish, at least, with us to stay. Let's banish business, banish sorrow To the gods belong to-morrow.
Abraham Cowley
Books should, not Business, entertain the Light And Sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.
Abraham Cowley
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.
Abraham Cowley
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 The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man's left to epitomize!
Abraham Cowley
Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
Abraham Cowley
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Abraham Cowley
Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
Abraham Cowley
His time's forever, everywhere his place.
Abraham Cowley
Life is an incurable disease.
Abraham Cowley
Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
Abraham Cowley
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
Thus would I double my life's fading spaceFor he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
Abraham Cowley
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
Abraham Cowley
And I myself a Catholic will be, So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee. Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow On us, the Poets militant below.
Abraham Cowley
Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends not on number, but the choice of friends.
Abraham Cowley
Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
Abraham Cowley
Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep'rate friends.
Abraham Cowley
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, Both wise, and both delightful too. And since Love ne'er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as Guardian angels are, Only belov'd and loving me.
Abraham Cowley
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
Abraham Cowley