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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?

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
Mum
Greatly
Sugar
Pity
Slavery
Without
Must
Rum

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A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
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Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
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All truth is precious, if not all divine and what dilates the powers must needs refine.
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Religion does not censure or exclude Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.
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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.
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Far happier are the dead methinks than they who look for death and fear it every day.
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Dejection of spirits, which may have prevented many a man from becoming an author, made me one. I find constant employment necessary, and therefore take care to be constantly employed. . . . When I can find no other occupation, I think and when I think, I am very apt to do it in rhyme.
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Toil for the brave! The brave that are no more.
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In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that ministers, And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn: Object of my implacable disgust.
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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.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
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If a great man struggling with misfortunes is a noble object, a little man that despises them is no contemptible one.
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Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies... To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
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The beggarly last doit.
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But poverty, with most who whimper forth Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe The effect of laziness, or sottish write.
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Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurl'd, To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the Pole the produce of the sun, And knit the unsocial climates into one.
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Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
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All constraint, / Except what wisdom lays on evil men, / Is evil.
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