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The thirsty earth soaks up the rain,And drinks, and gapes for drink again;The plants suck in the earth, and areWith constant drinking fresh and fair.
Abraham Cowley -
Life is an incurable disease.
Abraham Cowley
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Charm'd with the foolish whistling of a name.
Abraham Cowley -
Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.
Abraham Cowley -
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Abraham Cowley -
Nothing is to come, and nothing past: But an eternal now, does always last.
Abraham Cowley -
His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was always in the right.
Abraham Cowley -
Lukewarmness I account a sin, as great in love as in religion.
Abraham Cowley
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This only grant me, that my means may lie too low for envy, for contempt too high.
Abraham Cowley -
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
Abraham Cowley -
Hope! of all ills that men endure, the only cheap and universal cure.
Abraham Cowley -
The world's a scene of changes, and to be constant, in nature were inconstancy.
Abraham Cowley -
Solitude can be used well by very few people. They who do must have a knowledge of the world to see the foolishness of it, and enough virtue to despise all the vanity.
Abraham Cowley -
Beauty, thou wild fantastic apeWho dost in every country change thy shape!
Abraham Cowley
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An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,And fell adown his shoulders with loose care.
Abraham Cowley -
The fairest garden in her looks,And in her mind the wisest books.
Abraham Cowley -
Here Lucifer the mighty Captive reigns;Proud, 'midst his Woes, and Tyrant in his Chains.
Abraham Cowley -
Words that weep and tears that speak.
Abraham Cowley -
When Israel was from bondage led,Led by the Almighty's handFrom out of foreign land,The great sea beheld and fled.
Abraham Cowley -
Fond archer, Hope! who tak'st thy aim so far,That still or short, or wide thine arrows are!
Abraham Cowley
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What shall I do to be forever known,And make the age to come my own?
Abraham Cowley -
A mighty pain to love it is,And 't is a pain that pain to miss;But of all pains, the greatest painIt is to love, but love in vain.
Abraham Cowley -
Why to mute fish should'st thou thyself discoverAnd not to me, thy no less silent lover?
Abraham Cowley -
Thus would I double my life's fading space;For he that runs it well, runs twice his race.
Abraham Cowley