Quote

Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry-- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.

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
Choose
Marry
Alone
Lesson
Seems
Proper
Time
Tales
Misses
Relate
Matrimony
Carry
Mate
Lessons
Mates
Missing
Tale

More quotes by William Cowper

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A story, in which native humour reigns, Is often useful, always entertains A graver fact, enlisted on your side, May furnish illustration, well applied But sedentary weavers of long tales Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.
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Restraining prayer, we cease to fight Prayer keeps the Christian's armor bright And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
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Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
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How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at interval upon the ear In cadence sweet now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
William Cowper
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Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
William Cowper
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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Unmissed but by his dogs and by his groom.
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Man on the dubious waves of error toss'd.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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Still ending, and beginning still.
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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.
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Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
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I am out of humanity's reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speechI start at the sound of my own.
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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.
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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.
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Great offices will have great talents.
William Cowper
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In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
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And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within?
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How various his employments whom the world Calls idle and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
William Cowper
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A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
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