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ABRAHAM COWLEY ambition ancient avarice beasts beauty better bold Catullus Cicero Columella command confess courage court Cowley Cromwell death delight discourse divine dost earth envy Epicurus excellent fear fortune friends garden Georgics give gods happy history of animals honour Horace human humble Incitatus industry innocent justice of peace kind king labour less liberty live Lord Lord Strafford Lucretius luxury mankind manner master men's ment methinks mind nation nature never noble OLIVER CROMWELL Ovid person Pindar pity pleasures poetry poets pounds pretend princes professors rich rience Sapere aude scarce Senecio servants shew slave sleep sort thee things thou thought tion tree true truth tyrant usurpation Varro verse Virgil virtue virtuous whilst whole wicked wise wonder writings
Seite 171 - Behold now, this city is near to flee unto, and it is a little one: Oh, let me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live.
Seite 226 - This only grant me, that my means may lie Too low for envy, for contempt too high. Some honour I would have, Not from great deeds, but good alone. The unknown are better than ill known. Rumour can ope the grave; Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends Not on the number, but the choice of friends.
Seite 203 - And they said : Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven, and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.
Seite 227 - Thus would I double my life's fading space, For he that runs it well, twice runs his race. And in this true delight, These unbought sports, that happy state, I would not fear nor wish my fate, But boldly say each night, To-morrow let my sun his beams display, Or in clouds hide them; I have lived to-day.
Seite 83 - Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.
Seite 130 - Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris. Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
Seite 133 - Here let me careless and unthoughtful lying, Hear the soft winds above me flying With all their wanton boughs dispute, And the more tuneful birds to both replying, Nor be myself too mute.
Seite 231 - Nor by me e'er shall you, You of all names the sweetest, and the best, You Muses, books, and liberty, and rest; You gardens, fields, and woods forsaken be, As long as life itself forsakes not me.
Seite 58 - ... to usurp three kingdoms without any shadow of the least pretensions, and to govern them as unjustly as he got them ? to set himself up as an idol (which we know, as St. Paul says, in itself is nothing), and make the very streets of London like the valley of Hinnon, by burning the bowels of men as a sacrifice to his Molochship...