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What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?

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
Ever
Come
Make
Reputation
Shall
Age
Known

More quotes by 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.
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But what is woman? Only one of nature's agreeable blunders.
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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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Books should, not Business, entertain the Light And Sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.
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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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Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
Abraham Cowley
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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
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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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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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The monster London laugh at me.
Abraham Cowley
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Why to mute fish should'st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
Abraham Cowley
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Life is an incurable disease.
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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His time's forever, everywhere his place.
Abraham Cowley
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Nay, in death's hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove's.
Abraham Cowley
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It is a hard and nice subject for a man to speak of himself: it grates his own heart to say anything of disparagement, and the reader's ear to hear anything of praise from him.
Abraham Cowley
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As for being much known by sight, and pointed out, I cannot comprehend the honor that lies withal whatsoever it be, every mountebank has it more than the best doctor.
Abraham Cowley
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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
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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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Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.
Abraham Cowley