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England, with all thy faults I love thee still, My country!

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
Country
Love
Faults
Thee
England
Stills
Still

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Defend me, therefore, common sense, say From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up.
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True modesty is a discerning grace And only blushes in the proper place But counterfeit is blind, and skulks through fear, Where 'tis a shame to be asham'd t' appear: Humility the parent of the first, The last by vanity produc'd and nurs'd.
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Grief is itself a medicine.
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Call'd to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.
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We are never more in danger than when we think ourselves most secure, nor in reality more secure than when we seem to be most in danger.
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Happy the man who sees a God employed in all the good and ills that checker life.
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Did Charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
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Our love is principle, and has its root In reason, is judicious, manly, free.
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How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
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Laugh at all you trembled at before.
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A lawyer's dealings should be just and fair Honesty shines with great advantage there.
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A fool must now and then be right, by chance
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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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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
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What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wifeWhen friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
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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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I am out of humanity's reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speechI start at the sound of my own.
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