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Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.

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
Shutters
Sofas
Tea
Cheer
Cups
Evening
Hissing

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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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A fool must now and then be right, by chance
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The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
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God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
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The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
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There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
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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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Sin let loose speaks punishment at hand.
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He that has seen both sides of fifty has lived to little purpose if he has no other views of the world than he had when he was much younger.
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There is mercy in every place. And mercy, encouraging thought gives even affliction a grace and reconciles man to his lot.
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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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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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Slaves cannot breathe in England if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
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How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.
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All constraint, / Except what wisdom lays on evil men, / Is evil.
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An idler is a watch that wants both hands As useless if it goes as when it stands.
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The man to solitude accustom'd long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease, After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
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