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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again, pronounce a text, Cry hem and reading what they never wrote Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!
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
Things
Cry
Bred
Never
Scene
Mount
Close
Skip
Minutes
Whisper
Reading
Text
Rostrum
Wells
Preaching
Huddle
Well
Fifteen
Hem
Work
Wrote
Pronounce
More quotes by William Cowper
Lord, it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint Yet I love thee and adore, Oh for grace to love thee more!
William Cowper
Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
William Cowper
Great offices will have great talents.
William Cowper
Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
William Cowper
Fate steals along with silent tread, Found oftenest in what least we dread Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
William Cowper
How happy it is to believe, with a steadfast assurance, that our petitions are heard even while we are making them and how delightful to meet with a proof of it in the effectual and actual grant of them.
William Cowper
Man on the dubious waves of error toss'd.
William Cowper
Religion Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None as invincible as they.
William Cowper
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hourThe bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.
William Cowper
The mind, relaxing into needful sport, Should turn to writers of an abler sort, Whose wit well managed, and whose classic style, Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile.
William Cowper
Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk, Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.
William Cowper
Remorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid, In every bosom where her nest is made, Hatched by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast.
William Cowper
A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
William Cowper
She that asks Her dear five hundred friends, contemns them all, And hates their coming.
William Cowper
With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.
William Cowper
A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
William Cowper
The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
William Cowper
Th' embroid'ry of poetic dreams.
William Cowper