Quote

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

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
Since
Stream
Dies
Supply
Faith
Streams
Love
Theme
Wounds
Till
Saws
Redeeming
Shall
Flowing

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War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
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The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue.
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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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But conversation, choose what theme we may, And chiefly when religion leads the way, Should flow, like waters after summer show'rs, Not as if raised by mere mechanic powers.
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Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, attain not to the dignity of thought.
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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.
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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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Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.
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Blest be the art that can immortalize.
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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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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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Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
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Great offices will have great talents.
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God never meant that man should scale the Heavens By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines.
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Fate steals along with silent tread, Found oftenest in what least we dread Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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Lived in his saddle, loved the chase, the course, And always, ere he mounted, kiss'd his horse.
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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
William Cowper
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His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.
William Cowper