Maxioms by Abraham Cowley
Nature's self's thy Ganymede.
Nature's self's thy Ganymede.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.
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.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
We griev'd, we sigh'd, we wept; we never blushed before.
Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find:
Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find:
Occasion once past by, is bald behind.
