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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs

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
Ways
Wonder
Moving
Way
Performs
Wonders
Moves
Mysterious

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The still small voice is wanted.
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The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
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I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
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The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
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What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
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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.
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Whoever keeps an open ear For tattlers will be sure to hear The trumpet of contention.
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Still ending, and beginning still.
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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.
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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.
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No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed.
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Without one friend, above all foes, Britannia gives the world repose.
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There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart he does not feel for man.
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Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.
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Folly ends where genuine hope begins.
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They best can judge a poet's worth, Who oft themselves have known The pangs of a poetic birth By labours of their own.
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Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream.
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The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
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The man to solitude accustom'd long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease, After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
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