Maxioms by Abraham Cowley
Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit
Of poets triumphs over it.
Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit
Of poets triumphs over it.
An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.
An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.
Ah, yet, e'er I descend to th' grave,
May I a small House and a large Garden have.
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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.
Hope! of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure.
Hope! of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
