Select Works of Mr. A. Cowley: In Two Volumes: with a Preface and Notes by the Editor. ...

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T. Cadell, 1777
 

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Stran 117 - Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say, Have ye not seen us walking every day? Was there a tree about which did not know The love betwixt us two? Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade ; Or your sad branches thicker join, And into darksome shades combine, Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid...
Stran 142 - Tis time to live if I grow old. "Tis time short pleasures now to take, Of little life the best to make, And manage wisely the last stake.
Stran 160 - But I will briefer with them be, Since few of them were long with me. An higher and a nobler strain My present Emperess does claim, Heleonora, first o...
Stran 85 - It is time to recover it out of the tyrant's hands, and to restore it to the kingdom of God, who is the father of it.
Stran 139 - 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?
Stran 139 - 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. The sea itself, which one would think Should have but little need of drink, Drinks ten thousand rivers up, So fill'd that they oerflow the cup. The busy sun (and one would guess...
Stran 67 - This has been the case with Shakspeare, Fletcher, Jonson, and many others ; part of whose poems I should take the boldness to prune and lop away, if the care of replanting them in print did belong to me : neither would I make any scruple to cut off from some the unnecessary...
Stran 213 - For every tree and every herb around With pearly dew was crown'd, And upon all the quicken'd ground The fruitful seed of Heaven did brooding lie, And nothing but the Muse's fleece was dry.
Stran 215 - Ah ! wanton foe, dost thou upbraid The ills which thou thyself hast made ? When in the cradle innocent I lay, Thou, wicked spirit, stolest me away, And my abused soul didst bear Into thy new-found worlds, I know not where...
Stran 111 - tis not to adorn and gild each part; That shows more cost than art. Jewels at nose and lips but ill appear ; Rather than all things wit, let none be there, Several lights will not be seen, If there be nothing else between. Men doubt, because they stand so thick i* th' sky, If those be stars which paint the Galaxy.

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