Quote

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.

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
Music
Sight
Languid
Quiet
Sights
Listening
Rural
Silence
Restore
Alone
Tone
Sound
Noise
Spirit
Sounds
Nature
Hearing

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Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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Restraining prayer, we cease to fight Prayer keeps the Christian's armor bright And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
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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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Accomplishments have taken virtue's place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.
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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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Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys: Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
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Sin let loose speaks punishment at hand.
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
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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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How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
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Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
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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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Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
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Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
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Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
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Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse, But talking is not always to converse, Not more distinct from harmony divine The constant creaking of a country sign.
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But animated nature sweeter still, to soothe and satisfy the human ear.
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When scandal has new-minted an old lie, Or tax'd invention for a fresh supply, 'Tis call'd a satire, and the world appears Gathering around it with erected ears A thousand names are toss'd into the crowd, Some whisper'd softly, and some twang'd aloud, Just as the sapience of an author's brain, Suggests it safe or dangerous to be plain.
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