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What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.

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
Memories
Hours
Enjoy
Aching
Left
Void
Stills
Fill
Still
Peaceful
Never
Memory
World
Sweet

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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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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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All constraint, / Except what wisdom lays on evil men, / Is evil.
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If a great man struggling with misfortunes is a noble object, a little man that despises them is no contemptible one.
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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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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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What we admire we praise and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.
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The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
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Dejection of spirits, which may have prevented many a man from becoming an author, made me one. I find constant employment necessary, and therefore take care to be constantly employed. . . . When I can find no other occupation, I think and when I think, I am very apt to do it in rhyme.
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Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
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Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
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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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How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
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Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
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[My kitten] is dressed in a tortoise-shell suit, and I know you will delight in her.
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A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
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Forced from home, and all its pleasures, afric coast I left forlorn to increase a stranger's treasures, o the raging billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me, paid my price in paltry gold but, though theirs they have enroll'd me, minds are never to be sold.
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Knowledge is proud that it knows so much wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
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Strength may wield the ponderous spade, May turn the clod, and wheel the compost home But elegance, chief grace the garden shows, And most attractive, is the fair result Of thought, the creature of a polished mind.
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