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Stones of small worth may lie unseen by day, But night itself does the rich gem betray.

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
Worth
Small
Rich
Lying
Gems
Night
Jewels
Doe
Unseen
May
Betray
Stones

More quotes by 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.
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Thus would I double my life's fading spaceFor he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
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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.
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His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong his life, I'm sure, was in the right.
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Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
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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.
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But what is woman? Only one of nature's agreeable blunders.
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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!
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Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
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Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
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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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His time's forever, everywhere his place.
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Ah! Wretched and too solitary he who loves not his own company.
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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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Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
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Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
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Thus each extreme to equal danger tends, Plenty, as well as Want, can sep'rate friends.
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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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Books should, not Business, entertain the Light And Sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.
Abraham Cowley