Quote

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.

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
Immense
Knots
Temper
Explosions
Tied
Divide
Corrosion
Suddenly
Joys
Fretful
Passionate
Divides
Disperse
Joy
Sharp
Ceaseless
May
Fierce
Knot
Closest
Explosion

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To see the Law by Christ fulfilled, And hear His pardoning voice Changes a slave into a child, And duty into choice.
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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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The Spirit breathes upon the Word and brings the truth to sight.
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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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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Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard: To carry nature lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more.
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When I thinkof my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
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Heaven's harmony is universal love.
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What we admire we praise and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.
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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
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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.
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O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
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Meditation here may think down hours to moments. Here the heart may give a useful lesson to the head and learning wiser grow without his books.
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The still small voice is wanted.
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But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.
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The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
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I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
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Still ending, and beginning still.
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Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds A stream of liberal and heroic deeds The swell of pity, not to be confined Within the scanty limits of the mind.
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