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Absence of occupation is not rest A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.

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
Quite
Wisdom
Mind
Distressed
Vacant
Relaxation
Occupation
Absence
Rest

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The parable of the prodigal son, the most beautiful fiction that ever was invented our Saviour's speech to His disciples, with which He closed His earthly ministrations, full of the sublimest dignity and tenderest affection, surpass everything that I ever read and like the spirit by which they were dictated, fly directly to the heart.
William Cowper
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Necessity invented stools, Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs, And luxury the accomplish'd Sofa last.
William Cowper
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Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
William Cowper
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God made the country, and man made the town.
William Cowper
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And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.
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Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.
William Cowper
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[My kitten] is dressed in a tortoise-shell suit, and I know you will delight in her.
William Cowper
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I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fire-side enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturb'd retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted ev'ning, know.
William Cowper
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Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost.
William Cowper
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
William Cowper
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
William Cowper
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Sin let loose speaks punishment at hand.
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How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at interval upon the ear In cadence sweet now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
William Cowper
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Religion, if in heavenly truths attired, Needs only to be seen to be admired.
William Cowper
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
William Cowper
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Man in society is like a flow'r, Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone His faculties expanded in full bloom Shine out, there only reach their proper use.
William Cowper
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But animated nature sweeter still, to soothe and satisfy the human ear.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper