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Abraham Cowley - Let but thy wicked men from out thee...

Let but thy wicked men from out thee go,
And all the fools that crowd thee so,
Even thou, who dost thy millions boast,
A village less than Islington wilt grow,
A solitude almost. (Abraham Cowley)

Let but thy wicked men from out thee go, And all the fools that crowd thee so, Even thou, who dost thy millions boast, A village less than Islington wilt grow, A solitude almost.

Abraham Cowley

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almost boast crowd men less solitude thee thou village wilt

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