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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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Abraham Cowley
Age: 49 †
Born: 1618
Born: January 1
Died: 1667
Died: July 28
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Prosaist
the City
Prove
Hand
Jove
Strong
Grape
Death
Grapes
Hands
Proves
Thunder
Stone
Stones

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Nothing so soon the drooping spirits can raise As praises from the men, whom all men praise.
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The monster London laugh at me.
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The present is an eternal now.
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For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room.
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Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.
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There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.
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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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Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
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The getting out of doors is the greatest part of the journey.
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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.
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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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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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Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?
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Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live.
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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.
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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
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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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Gold begets in brethren hate Gold in families debate Gold does friendship separate Gold does civil wars create.
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The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government the liberty of a private man, in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country.
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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.
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