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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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William Cowper
Age: 68 †
Born: 1731
Born: November 26
Died: 1800
Died: April 25
Hymnwriter
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Translator
Writer
Berkhamsted
Hertfordshire
Shells
Dressed
Suit
Suits
Cat
Tortoise
Delight
Tortoises
Kitten
Shell
More quotes by William Cowper
How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
William Cowper
No traveler e'er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.
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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
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I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.
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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again, pronounce a text, Cry hem and reading what they never wrote Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
William Cowper
Without one friend, above all foes, Britannia gives the world repose.
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How various his employments whom the world Calls idle and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
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A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
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His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.
William Cowper
We bear our shades about us self-deprived Of other screen, the thin umbrella spread, And range an Indian waste without a tree.
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I will venture to assert, that a just translation of any ancient poet in rhyme is impossible. No human ingenuity can be equal to the task of closing every couplet with sounds homotonous, expressing at the same time the full sense, and only the full sense of his original.
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Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
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Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
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The solemn fop significant and budge A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge
William Cowper
When from soft love proceeds the deep distress, ah! why forbid the willing tears to flow?
William Cowper
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
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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