William Cowper Quotes

Whoever keeps an open ear For tattlers will be sure to hear The trumpet of contention.

The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.

It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.

I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar; / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.

Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.

Great offices will have great talents, and God gives to every man the virtue, temper, understanding, taste, that lifts him into life, and lets him fall just in the niche he was ordained to fill.

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.

Meditation here may think down hours to moments. Here the heart may give a useful lesson to the head and learning wiser grow without his books.

Did Charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.

Pity! Religion has so seldom found A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flowers would spring where'er she deign'd to stray And every muse attend her in her way.

When one that holds communion with the skies Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings.

Necessity invented stools, Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs, And luxury the accomplish'd Sofa last.

A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.

Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.

No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.

We bear our shades about us; self-deprived Of other screen, the thin umbrella spread, And range an Indian waste without a tree.

Religion, if in heavenly truths attired, Needs only to be seen to be admired.

Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd Please daily, and whose novelty survives Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years.

Ten thousand casks, Forever dribbling out their base contents, Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. Drink, and be mad then; 'tis your country bids!

Blest be the art that can immortalize.

The Spirit breathes upon the Word and brings the truth to sight.

Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, 'tis being flayed alive.

Absence of proof is not proof of absence.

He that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, should beware Of lightness in his speech.

What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wife;When friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?

Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.

A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast; The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.

Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.

It is only the inexperienced and thoughtless who find pleasure in killing fish for the mere sake of killing them. No sportsman does this.

O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?

Not to understand a treasure's worth till time has stole away the slighted good, is cause of half the poverty we feel, and makes the world the wilderness it is.

Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule.

Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home.

This cabin, Mary, in my sight appears, Built as it has been in our waning years, A rest afforded to our weary feet, Preliminary to - the last retreat.

Toil for the brave! The brave that are no more.

With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.

The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul bawled out, Well done! As loud as he could bawl.

Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.

O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.

Philologists, who chase A painting syllable through time and space Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.

If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.

What we admire we praise; and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.

But many a crime deemed innocent on earth Is registered in Heaven; and these no doubt Have each their record, with a curse annex'd.

To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.

Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die