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Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.
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
Write
Heroes
Littles
Wars
Little
Narrative
Writing
Hero
Call
Known
War
Rant
History
Feats
More quotes by William Cowper
The parable of the prodigal son, the most beautiful fiction that ever was invented our Saviour's speech to His disciples, with which He closed His earthly ministrations, full of the sublimest dignity and tenderest affection, surpass everything that I ever read and like the spirit by which they were dictated, fly directly to the heart.
William Cowper
Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
William Cowper
To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
William Cowper
What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wifeWhen friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
William Cowper
Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
William Cowper
Accomplishments have taken virtue's place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.
William Cowper
Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurl'd, To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the Pole the produce of the sun, And knit the unsocial climates into one.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
Man in society is like a flow'r, Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone His faculties expanded in full bloom Shine out, there only reach their proper use.
William Cowper
Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world to see the stir Of the Great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
William Cowper
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
Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
William Cowper
Remorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid, In every bosom where her nest is made, Hatched by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast.
William Cowper
It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
Philologists, who chase A painting syllable through time and space Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.
William Cowper
Lights of the world, and stars of human race.
William Cowper
Pity! Religion has so seldom found A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flowers would spring where'er she deign'd to stray And every muse attend her in her way.
William Cowper
