Abraham Cowley Poems
- On The Death Of Mr. Crashaw Poet and Saint! to thee alone are...
- The Wish WELL then! I now do plainly see ...
- The Given Heart I wonder what those lovers mean, who say ...
- Life Life's a name That nothing here can truly claim; This ...
- The Despair Beneath this gloomy shade, By Nature only for my...
- The Grasshopper Happy insect, what can be In happiness ...
- Beauty LIBERAL Nature did dispence To all things Arms for ...
His father, a wealthy citizen, who died shortly before his birth, was a stationer. His mother was wholly given to works of devotion, but it happened that there lay in her parlour a copy of The Faerie Queene. This became the favourite reading of her son, and he had twice devoured it all before he was sent to school.
As early as 1628, that is, in his tenth year, he composed his Tragicall History of Piramus and Thisbe, an epic romance written in a six-line stanza, a style of his own invention. It is not too much to say that this work is the most astonishing feat of imaginative precocity on record; it is marked by no great faults of immaturity, and possesses constructive merits of a ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.''Abraham Cowley (1618-1667), British essayist, poet. The Garden, Essays in Verse and Prose (1668).
''Life is an incurable disease.''Abraham Cowley (1618-1667), British essayist, poet. To Dr. Scarborough, st. 6 (1656).
Comments about Abraham Cowley
On The Death Of Mr. Crashaw
Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given
The two most sacred names of earth and heaven,
The hard and rarest union which can be
Next that of godhead with humanity.
Long did the Muses banish'd slaves abide,
And built vain pyramids to mortal pride;
Like Moses thou (though spells and charms withstand)
Hast brought them nobly home back to their Holy Land.
Ah wretched we, poets of earth! but thou
Wert living the same poet which thou'rt now.
Whilst angels sing to thee their airs divine,
And joy in an applause so great as thine,