Abraham Cowley

(1618 – 28 July 1667 / London)

Abraham Cowley Poems

41. On The Death Of Mr. William Hervey 1/4/2003
42. Sport 4/19/2010
43. The Heart Breaking 2/24/2014
44. A Supplication 1/13/2003
45. On The Death Of Mr. Crashaw 1/1/2004
46. The Thief 2/24/2014
47. Platonick Love 2/24/2014
48. Hymn To Light 4/19/2010
49. The Change 4/19/2010
50. Beauty 4/19/2010
51. The Grasshopper 4/19/2010
52. The Despair 4/19/2010
53. The Wish 1/4/2003
54. The Given Heart 1/1/2004
55. Life 4/19/2010

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Best Poem of Abraham Cowley


Life's a name
That nothing here can truly claim;
This wretched inn, where we scarce stay to bait,
We call our dwelling-place!
And mighty voyages we take,
And mighty journeys seem to make,
O'er sea and land, the little point that has no space.
Because we fight and battles gain,
Some captives call, and say, 'the rest are slain';
Because we heap up yellow earth, and so
Rich, valiant, wise, and virtuous seem to grow;
Because we draw a long nobility
From hieroglyphic proofs of heraldry-
We grow at last by Custom to believe,
That really we Live;
Whilst ...

Read the full of Life

Anacreontics, Drinking

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 twice ten thousand rivers up,
So fill'd that they o'erflow the cup.
The busy Sun (and one would guess

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