Abraham Cowley

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.

Ah, yet, e'er I descend to th' grave,
May I a small House and a large Garden have.
read more

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.

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.

Nothing in Nature's sober found,
But an eternal Health goes round.
Fill up the Bowl then, fill read more

Nothing in Nature's sober found,
But an eternal Health goes round.
Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high--
Fill all the Glasses there; for why
Should every Creature Drink but I?
Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?

Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.

Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.