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As if the world and they were hand and glove.

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
World
Glove
Gloves
Hypocrisy
Hand
Hands

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Knowledge is proud that it knows so much wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
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God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money, Pride made the devil, and the devil made sin So God made a cole-pit to put the devil in.
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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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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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He that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, should beware Of lightness in his speech.
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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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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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Learning itself, received into a mind By nature weak, or viciously inclined, Serves but to lead philosophers astray, Where children would with ease discern the way.
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The still small voice is wanted.
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Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.
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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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Laugh at all you trembled at before.
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I am out of humanity's reach.
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The slaves of custom and established mode, With pack-horse constancy we keep the road Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells, True to the jingling of our leader's bells.
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An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
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No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed.
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Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
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[My kitten's] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.
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Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
William Cowper