Abraham Cowley
Abraham Cowley
Abraham Cowleywas an English poet born in the City of London late in 1618. He was one of the leading English poets of the 17th century, with 14 printings of his Works published between 1668 and 1721...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
art garden eagles
"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."
book garden house
May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
garden cities firsts
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
strong home garden
I never had any other desire so strong, and so like covetousness, as that ... I might be master at last of a small house and a large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life to the culture of them and the study of nature.
age age-and-aging forever shall
What shall I do to be forever known,/ And make the age to come my own?
constant drink drinking earth fair fresh plants suck thirsty
The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair
contempt english-poet grant lie low means
This only grant me, that my means may lie too low for envy, for contempt too high.
creature drink man
For why / Should every creature drink but I, / Why, man of morals, tell me why?
both eyes kisses lips love outward parts pleasant sunny thousand walks
Love in her sunny eyes does basking play;/ Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair;/ Love does on both her lips for ever stray;/ And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there./ In all her outward parts Love's always seen;/ But, oh, he never went within.
english-poet past
Nothing is to come, and nothing past: But an eternal now, does always last.
english-poet nature scene
The world's a scene of changes, and to be constant, in nature were inconstancy.
busy shall
Well then; I now do plainly see, / This busy world and I shall ne'er agree.
hopeless
Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.
lovers silent mute
Why to mute fish should'st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?