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There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.
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
Sparks
Preaching
Goes
Parson
Less
Illustrious
Clerk
Clerks
Scarce
Spark
More quotes by William Cowper
Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry-- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.
William Cowper
Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen, Delightful industry enjoy'd at home, An Nature, in her cultivated trim Dress'ed to his taste, inviting him abroad - Can he want occupation who has these?
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England, with all thy faults I love thee still, My country!
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We bear our shades about us self-deprived Of other screen, the thin umbrella spread, And range an Indian waste without a tree.
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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.
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
William Cowper
And in that hour, The seeds of cruelty, that since have swell'd To such gigantic and enormous growth, Were sown in human nature's fruitful soil. Hence date the persecution and the pain That man inflicts on all inferior kinds, Regardless of their plaints.
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Grief is itself a medicine.
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The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue.
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Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
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It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st
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Tis Providence alone secures In every change both mine and yours.
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Man in society is like a flow'r, Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone His faculties expanded in full bloom Shine out, there only reach their proper use.
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Some drill and bore The solid earth, and from the strata there Extract a register, by which we learn, That he who made it, and reveal'd its date To Moses, was mistaken in its age.
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My soul is sick with every day's report of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
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Some people are more nice than wise.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
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A tale should be judicious, clear, succinct The language plain, and incidents well link'd Tell not as new what ev'ry body knows and, new or old, still hasten to a close.
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Transforms old print To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.
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Absence of occupation is not rest A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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