Quote

The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.

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
Every
Pairs
Something
Occasions
Forgive
Forgiving
Forbear
Pity
Kindest
Perhaps
Happiest
Find
Pair
Live
Occasion

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Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
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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 earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
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Strength may wield the ponderous spade, May turn the clod, and wheel the compost home But elegance, chief grace the garden shows, And most attractive, is the fair result Of thought, the creature of a polished mind.
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Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
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When one that holds communion with the skies Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings.
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Great offices will have great talents, and God gives to every man the virtue, temper, understanding, taste, that lifts him into life, and lets him fall just in the niche he was ordained to fill.
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The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk, Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.
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Tis Providence alone secures In every change both mine and yours.
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England with all thy faults, I love thee still-- My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee.
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Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth. While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.
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Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing.
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The fall of waters and the song of birds, And hills that echo to the distant berds, Are luxuries excelling all the glare The world can boast, and her chief favorites share.
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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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Books are not seldom talismans and spells.
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An inadvertent step may crush the snail That crawls at evening in the public path. But he that has humanity, forewarned, Will turn aside and let the reptile live.
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All affectation 'tis my perfect scorn Object of my implacable disgust.
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No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.
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Then liberty, like day, Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from Heaven Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.
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For 'tis a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost, We seek it, ere it comes to light, In every cranny but the right.
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