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No traveler e'er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.

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
Abode
Thorns
Traveler
Reached
Acceptance
Road
Found
Blest

More quotes by William Cowper

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He that runs may read.
William Cowper
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The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
William Cowper
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O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
William Cowper
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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
William Cowper
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Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
William Cowper
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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
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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
William Cowper
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Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
William Cowper
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The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
William Cowper
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
William Cowper
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God made the country, and man made the town.
William Cowper
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Man on the dubious waves of error toss'd.
William Cowper
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We bear our shades about us self-deprived Of other screen, the thin umbrella spread, And range an Indian waste without a tree.
William Cowper
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But poverty, with most who whimper forth Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe The effect of laziness, or sottish write.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
William Cowper
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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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I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.
William Cowper