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.
Happy insect! what can be
In happiness compared to thee?
Fed with nourishment divine,
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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.
The thirsty Earth soaks up the Rain,
And drinks, and gapes for Drink again;
The Plants suck read more
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.
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
Nothing is there to come, and nothing past,
But an eternal Now does always last.
What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?
What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?
