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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.

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
Known
Pangs
Best
Poetic
Labour
Judge
Judging
Poet
Birth
Worth
Labours

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Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
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Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world to see the stir Of the Great Babel, and not feel the crowd.
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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
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O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, . . . I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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There is a mixture of evil in everything we do indulgence encourages us to encroach, while we Crabbe exercise the rights of children, we become childish.
William Cowper
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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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A teacher should be sparing of his smile.
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Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, attain not to the dignity of thought.
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He that runs may read.
William Cowper
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No wisdom that she may gain by experience and reflection hereafter, will compensate the loss of her present hilarity.
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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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Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
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Call'd to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.
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Oh, popular applause! what heart of man Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms? The wisest and the best feel urgent need Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales But swell'd into a gust--who then, alas! With all his canvas set, and inexpert, And therefore, heedless, can withstand thy power?
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I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
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Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
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Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
William Cowper