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Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head

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
Take
Clouds
Much
Mercy
Blessing
Saints
Courage
Dread
Shall
Fearful
Head
Blessings
Break
Fresh
Bigs
Saint

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Most satirists are indeed a public scourge Their mildest physic is a farrier's purge Their acrid temper turns, as soon as stirr'd, The milk of their good purpose all to curd. Their zeal begotten, as their works rehearse, By lean despair upon an empty purse.
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Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule.
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It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st
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A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
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Tis Providence alone secures In every change both mine and yours.
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But many a crime deemed innocent on earth Is registered in Heaven and these no doubt Have each their record, with a curse annex'd.
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The Cross! There, and there only (though the deist rave, and the atheist, if Earth bears so base a slave) There and there only, is the power to save.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
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'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume And we are weeds without it.
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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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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color'd like his own, and having pow'r T' enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
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If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
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Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
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Lights of the world, and stars of human race.
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The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all And every soul bawled out, Well done! As loud as he could bawl.
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