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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.
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
Show
Powers
Water
Leads
Religion
Flow
Shows
Raised
May
Summer
Chiefly
Way
Mere
Mechanic
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Conversation
Waters
Choose
Theme
More quotes by William Cowper
The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
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Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
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Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
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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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How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
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The parson knows enough who knows a Duke.
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Thieves at home must hang but he that puts Into his overgorged and bloated purse The wealth of Indian provinces, escapes.
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Heaven's harmony is universal love.
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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
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How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
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In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that ministers, And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn: Object of my implacable disgust.
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There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
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Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.
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Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse, But talking is not always to converse, Not more distinct from harmony divine The constant creaking of a country sign.
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They best can judge a poet's worth, Who oft themselves have known The pangs of a poetic birth By labours of their own.
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That good diffused may more abundant grow.
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How readily we wish time spent revoked, that we might try the ground again where once--through inexperience, as we now perceive--we missed that happiness we might have found!
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Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connection. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
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