William Cowper Quotes

That good diffused may more abundant grow.

If hindrances obstruct the way, Thy magnanimity display. And let thy strength be seen: But O, if Fortune fill thy sail With more than a propitious gale, Take half thy canvas in.

Man on the dubious waves of error toss'd.

Without one friend, above all foes, Britannia gives the world repose.

Thieves at home must hang; but he that puts Into his overgorged and bloated purse The wealth of Indian provinces, escapes.

Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.

How shall I speak thee, or thy power address Thou God of our idolatry, the Press. . . . . Like Eden's dead probationary tree, Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.

How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light.

Stamps God's own name upon a lie just made, To turn a penny in the way of trade.

Religion does not censure or exclude Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.

Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard: To carry nature lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more.

A teacher should be sparing of his smile.

The parson knows enough who knows a Duke.

Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd, And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.

But poverty, with most who whimper forth Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe; The effect of laziness, or sottish write.

As if the world and they were hand and glove.

Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good fame,--all these belong to virtue, and all prove that virtue has a title to your love.

A Christian's wit is offensive light, A beam that aids, but never grieves the sight; Vig'rous in age as in the flush of youth, 'Tis always active on the side of truth.

The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.

He that runs may read.

Then liberty, like day, Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from Heaven Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.

When from soft love proceeds the deep distress, ah! why forbid the willing tears to flow?

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.

I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.

Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor; And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.

Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry-- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.

But truths on which depends our main concern, That 'tis our shame and misery not to learn, Shine by the side of every path we tread With such a lustre he that runs may read.

The mind, relaxing into needful sport, Should turn to writers of an abler sort, Whose wit well managed, and whose classic style, Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile.

Sin let loose speaks punishment at hand.

Hast thou not learnd what thou art often told, A truth still sacred, and believed of old, That no success attends on spears and swords Unblest, and that the battle is the Lords?

But conversation, choose what theme we may, And chiefly when religion leads the way, Should flow, like waters after summer show'rs, Not as if raised by mere mechanic powers.

Great contest follows, and much learned dust Involves the combatants; each claiming truth, And truth disclaiming both.

Strange as it may seem, the most ludicrous lines I ever wrote have been written in the saddest mood.

The man that hails you Tom or Jack, and proves by thumps upon your back how he esteems your merit, is such a friend, that one had need be very much his friend indeed to pardon or to bear it.

In the vast, and the minute, we see The unambiguous footsteps of the God, Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing And wheels His throne upon the rolling worlds.

Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.

Fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.

Unmissed but by his dogs and by his groom.

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.

The beggarly last doit.

Still ending, and beginning still.

Happy the man who sees a God employed in all the good and ills that checker life.

The still small voice is wanted.

Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

The proud are ever most provoked by pride.

A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.

Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.

England, with all thy faults I love thee still, My country!