English poet Abraham Cowley died this day in 1667, but instead of his poetry, we get prose today. His essay, "On Agriculture," reads much easier than his poems as he gets gushy about the joys of farming.
“We may talk what we please,” he writes “of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles, in fields d’or or d’argent; but, if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms.”
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