Quote

Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.

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
May
Oppression
Never
Wars
Lodge
Vast
Lodges
Solitude
Rumors
Anymore
Unsuccessful
Reach
Rumor
Successful
Deceit
War
Wilderness

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And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within?
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Without one friend, above all foes, Britannia gives the world repose.
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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.
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They love the country, and none else, who seek For their own sake its silence and its shade. Delights which who would leave, that has a heart Susceptible of pity, or a mind Cultured and capable of sober thought.
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All truth is precious, if not all divine and what dilates the powers must needs refine.
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God made the country, and man made the town.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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But animated nature sweeter still, to soothe and satisfy the human ear.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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Folly ends where genuine hope begins.
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Toil for the brave! The brave that are no more.
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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!
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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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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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Religion does not censure or exclude Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.
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No traveler e'er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.
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Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true,- A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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Strange as it may seem, the most ludicrous lines I ever wrote have been written in the saddest mood.
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Philologists, who chase A painting syllable through time and space Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.
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