Quote

There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.

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
Poet
Poetry
Pleasure
Pain
Pains
Poetic
Poets

More quotes by William Cowper

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An idler is a watch that wants both hands As useless if it goes as when it stands.
William Cowper
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There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
William Cowper
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...So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
William Cowper
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All affectation 'tis my perfect scorn Object of my implacable disgust.
William Cowper
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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
William Cowper
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Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
William Cowper
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Laugh at all you trembled at before.
William Cowper
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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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He that runs may read.
William Cowper
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As if the world and they were hand and glove.
William Cowper
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame, Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others' bare.
William Cowper
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Did Charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
William Cowper
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Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name, But England's Milton equals both in fame.
William Cowper
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The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, And sullen sadness, that o'ershade, distort, And mar the face of beauty, when no cause For such immeasurable woe appears These Flora banishes, and gives the fair Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own.
William Cowper
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Remorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid, In every bosom where her nest is made, Hatched by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast.
William Cowper
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The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
William Cowper
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If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
William Cowper
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Poor England! thou art a devoted deer, Beset with every ill but that of fear. The nations hunt all mock thee for a prey They swarm around thee, and thou stand'st at bay.
William Cowper
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Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.
William Cowper
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hourThe bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.
William Cowper