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This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life's long race, Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway, We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.
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
Long
Place
Latest
Life
Home
Fond
Wells
Attachment
Firsts
Hold
Well
Started
Unfailing
First
Race
Maintains
Feel
Age
Sway
Feels
Known
Whence
More quotes by William Cowper
Truth is the golden girdle of the globe.
William Cowper
Lived in his saddle, loved the chase, the course, And always, ere he mounted, kiss'd his horse.
William Cowper
All constraint, / Except what wisdom lays on evil men, / Is evil.
William Cowper
Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.
William Cowper
God never meant that man should scale the Heavens By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines.
William Cowper
Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
William Cowper
To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.
William Cowper
In indolent vacuity of thought.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
Still ending, and beginning still.
William Cowper
...So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
William Cowper
Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
William Cowper
Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
William Cowper
The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.
William Cowper
But what is truth? 'Twas Pilate's question put To Truth itself, that deign'd him no reply.
William Cowper
Call'd to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.
William Cowper
The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
William Cowper
Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
William Cowper
But animated nature sweeter still, to soothe and satisfy the human ear.
William Cowper
Not a flower But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain, Of his unrivall'd pencil. He inspires Their balmy odors, and imparts their hues, And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes In grains as countless as the seaside sands, The forms with which he sprinkles all the earth Happy who walks with him!
William Cowper