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Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
William Cowper
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William Cowper
Age: 68 †
Born: 1731
Born: November 26
Died: 1800
Died: April 25
Hymnwriter
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Translator
Writer
Berkhamsted
Hertfordshire
Worse
Missing
Frustrates
Hope
Bye
Death
Farewell
Love
Absent
Goodbye
Absence
Despair
More quotes by William Cowper
Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
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Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.
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A life all turbulence and noise may seem To him that leads it wise and to be praised, But wisdom is a pearl with most success Sought in still waters.
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Our love is principle, and has its root In reason, is judicious, manly, free.
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Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
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Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world to see the stir Of the Great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
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Events of all sorts creep or fly exactly as God pleases.
William Cowper
All constraint, / Except what wisdom lays on evil men, / Is evil.
William Cowper
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.
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A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
A fool must now and then be right, by chance
William Cowper
Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
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Where men of judgment creep and feel their way, The positive pronounce without dismay.
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Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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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.
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When nations are to perish in their sins, 'tis in the Church the leprosy begins.
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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.
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Twere better to be born a stone Of ruder shape, and feeling none, Than with a tenderness like mine And sensibilities so fine! Ah, hapless wretch! condemn'd to dwell Forever in my native shell, Ordained to move when others please, Not for my own content or ease But toss'd and buffeted about, Now in the water and now out.
William Cowper
Blest be the art that can immortalize.
William Cowper