What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own?

In these lines the speaker voices a classic Renaissance-and-after anxiety about fame: the desire to act in such a way that one’s name outlives one’s lifetime. “Forever known” and “make the age to come my own” frame posterity as something that can be won—almost possessed—through exceptional deeds or writing. Read in Cowley’s milieu, the question also gestures toward the poet’s hope that literary achievement can confer a kind of secular immortality, while simultaneously hinting at the vanity and restlessness that accompany that pursuit. The couplet’s interrogative form keeps the aspiration unresolved, inviting reflection on what (if anything) truly merits remembrance.