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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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William Cowper
Age: 68 †
Born: 1731
Born: November 26
Died: 1800
Died: April 25
Hymnwriter
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Translator
Writer
Berkhamsted
Hertfordshire
Time
Hunts
Gaul
Chase
Philology
Greece
Linguists
Painting
Syllable
Dark
Ark
Start
Noah
Space
Syllables
Home
Hunt
More quotes by William Cowper
The man that hails you Tom or Jack, and proves by thumps upon your back how he esteems your merit, is such a friend, that one had need be very much his friend indeed to pardon or to bear it.
William Cowper
Go, mark the matchless working of the power That shuts within the seed the future flower Bids these in elegance of form excel. In color these, and those delight the smell Sends nature forth, the daughter of the skies, To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
William Cowper
Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd, And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.
William Cowper
Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
William Cowper
Still ending, and beginning still.
William Cowper
The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue.
William Cowper
Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
William Cowper
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
William Cowper
Religion Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None as invincible as they.
William Cowper
When I thinkof my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
William Cowper
Admirals extolled for standing still, or doing nothing with a deal of skill.
William Cowper
Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing.
William Cowper
A fool must now and then be right, by chance
William Cowper
We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
William Cowper
But poverty, with most who whimper forth Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe The effect of laziness, or sottish write.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.
William Cowper
Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
William Cowper
Great contest follows, and much learned dust Involves the combatants each claiming truth, And truth disclaiming both.
William Cowper
I pity bashful men, who feel the pain Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, And bear the marks upon a blushing face, OF needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.
William Cowper