Abraham Cowley

(1618 – 28 July 1667 / London)

Abraham Cowley Poems

1. The Wish 1/4/2003
2. The Given Heart 1/1/2004
3. On The Death Of Mr. Crashaw 1/1/2004
4. Life 4/19/2010
5. The Despair 4/19/2010
6. The Grasshopper 4/19/2010
7. Beauty 4/19/2010
8. The Change 4/19/2010
9. Hymn To Light 4/19/2010
10. A Supplication 1/13/2003
11. On The Death Of Mr. William Hervey 1/4/2003
12. Sport 4/19/2010
13. Davideis: A Sacred Poem Of The Troubles Of David (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
14. To The Royal Society (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
15. Anacreontics, The Swallow 1/4/2003
16. The Epicure 4/19/2010
17. A Vote (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
18. The Praise Of Pindar In Imitation Of Horace His Second Ode, Book 4 4/19/2010
19. Anacreontics, The Epicure 1/4/2003
20. Platonick Love 2/24/2014
21. The Thief 2/24/2014
22. The Heart Breaking 2/24/2014
23. Not Fair 2/24/2014
24. The Given Love 2/24/2014
25. The Motto 2/24/2014
26. Of Wit 2/24/2014
27. The Innocent Ill 2/24/2014
28. On The Death Of Sir Henry Wootton 2/24/2014
29. The Tree Of Knowledge 2/24/2014
30. To Sir William Davenant 2/24/2014
31. Inconstancy 2/24/2014
32. Sleep 2/24/2014
33. Bathing In The River 2/24/2014
34. Resolved To Be Loved 2/24/2014
35. Against Fruition 2/24/2014
36. Against Hope 2/24/2014
37. Cousel 2/24/2014
38. Concealment 2/24/2014
39. The Parting 2/24/2014
40. Written In Juice Of Lemon 2/24/2014
Best Poem of Abraham Cowley

The Wish

WELL then! I now do plainly see
   This busy world and I shall ne'er agree.
The very honey of all earthly joy
Does of all meats the soonest cloy;
   And they, methinks, deserve my pity
Who for it can endure the stings,
The crowd and buzz and murmurings,
   Of this great hive, the city.

Ah, yet, ere I descend to the grave
May I a small house and 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 ...

Read the full of The Wish

The Wish

WELL then! I now do plainly see
   This busy world and I shall ne'er agree.
The very honey of all earthly joy
Does of all meats the soonest cloy;
   And they, methinks, deserve my pity
Who for it can endure the stings,
The crowd and buzz and murmurings,
   Of this great hive, the city.

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