Quote

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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William Cowper
Age: 68 †
Born: 1731
Born: November 26
Died: 1800
Died: April 25
Hymnwriter
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Translator
Writer
Berkhamsted
Hertfordshire
Dark
Ark
Start
Noah
Space
Syllables
Home
Hunt
Time
Hunts
Gaul
Chase
Philology
Greece
Linguists
Painting
Syllable

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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
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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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Fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.
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A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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Come, evening, once again, season of peace Return, sweet evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west, With matron step, slow moving, while the night Treads on thy sweeping train one hand employ'd In letting fall the curtain of repose On bird and beast, the other charged for man With sweet oblivion of the cares of day.
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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
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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.
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Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
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How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
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But war's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings should not play at. Nations would do well To extort their truncheons from the puny hands Of heroes, whose infirm and baby minds Are gratified with mischief, and who spoil, Because men suffer it, their toy the world.
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The proud are ever most provoked by pride.
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... she, that will with kittens jest, Should bear a kitten's joke.
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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.
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Laugh at all you trembled at before.
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But many a crime deemed innocent on earth Is registered in Heaven and these no doubt Have each their record, with a curse annex'd.
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Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good fame,--all these belong to virtue, and all prove that virtue has a title to your love.
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Anticipated rents, and bills unpaid, Force many a shining youth into the shade, Not to redeem his time, but his estate, And play the fool, but at the cheaper rate.
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And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.
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Defend me, therefore, common sense, say From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up.
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