William Cowper


English Poet and Hymnodist

Author Quotes

To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob god of his honor, and is saying in effect that he has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of his own reach.

Visits are unsatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not visit, would do nothing.

When his wife asked him to change clothes to meet the German Ambassador: If they want to see me, here I am. If they want to see my clothes, open my closet and show them my suits.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

Would I describe a preacher… I would express him simple, grave, sincere; in doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, and plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste, and natural in gesture; much impress'd himself, as conscious of his awful charge, and anxious mainly that the flock he feeds may feel it too; affectionate in look, and tender in address, as well becomes a messenger of grace to guilty men.

To swear, to game, to drink, to show at home by lewdness, idleness, and Sabbath-breach, the great proficiency he made abroad, t' astonish and to grieve his gazing friends, to break some maiden's and his mother's heart, to be a pest where he was useful once. Are his sole aim, and all his glory now.

War lays a burden on the reeling state, and peace does nothing to relieve the weight.

When I think of my own native land, in a moment I seem to be there; but alas! recollection at hand soon hurries me back to despair.

Whoe'er was edified, themselves were not.

Wretch even then, life's journey just begun.

To trace in Nature's most minute design the signature and stamp of power divine… The Invisible in things scarce seen revealed, to whom an atom is an ample field.

War's a game which were their subjects wise Kings would not play at.

When nations are to perish in their sins, 'tis in the church the leprosy begins.

Whoever keeps an open ear for tattlers, will be sure to hear the trumpet of contention; aspersion is the babbler's trade, to listen is to lend him aid, and rush into dissension.

Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, the clouds you so much dread are big with mercy and shall break, with blessings on your head

Toll for the brave— the brave! that are no more: all sunk beneath the wave, fast by their native shore.

We are his, To serve him nobly in the common cause, True to the death, but not to be his slaves.

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.

Whoso seeks an audit here propitious, pays his tribute, game or fish, wild fowl or venison, and his errand speeds.

Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.

To-morrow is our wedding-day, and we will then repair unto the bell at edmonton, all in a chaise and pair.

We are never more in danger than when we think ourselves most secure, nor in reality more secure than when we seem to be most in danger.

When perjury, that heaven-defying vice, sells oaths by tale, and at the lowest price, stamps god's own name upon a lie just made, to turn a penny in the way of trade.

Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.

Yon ancient prude, whose wither'd features show she might be young some forty years ago, her elbows pinion'd close upon her hips, her head erect, her fan upon her lips, her eyebrows arch'd, her eyes both gone astray to watch yon amorous couple in their play, with bony and unkerchief'd neck defies the rude inclemency of wintry skies, and sails, with lappet-head and mincing airs, duly at chink of bell to morning prayers.

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English Poet and Hymnodist