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Poem by Abraham Cowley


Life


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 all these Shadows, that for Things we take,
Are but the empty Dreams which in Death's sleep we make. 



Abraham Cowley


Abraham Cowley's other poems:
  1. An Answer To A Copy Of Verses Sent Me To Jersey
  2. Constantia's Song
  3. Against Fruition
  4. The Usurpation
  5. Cheer Up, My Mates


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Samuel Coleridge Life ("As late I journey'd o'er the extensive plain")
  • Charlotte Bront Life ("LIFE, believe, is not a dream")
  • Anna Barbauld Life ("Life! I Know Not What Thou Art")
  • Bryan Procter Life ("WE are born; we laugh; we weep")
  • Francis Bacon Life ("THE world's a bubble, and the life of man")
  • Florence Coates Life ("Before we knew thee thou wert with us; ay")
  • Paul Dunbar Life ("A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in")
  • James Johnson Life ("Out of the infinite sea of eternity")
  • Henry Van Dyke Life ("LET me but live my life from year to year")
  • Jones Very Life ("IT is not life upon Thy gifts to live")
  • Edith Wharton Life ("LIFE, like a marble block, is given to all")
  • Mary Robinson Life ("What is this world?thy school, O misery!")

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