Quote

But truths on which depends our main concern, That 'tis our shame and misery not to learn, Shine by the side of every path we tread With such a lustre he that runs may read.

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
Every
Side
Runs
Path
Truths
Sides
Main
Reading
Shining
Read
Misery
Learn
Shame
Lustre
Running
Concern
Tread
May
Depends
Shine

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Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
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Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own disgrace?
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Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
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God forbid that Judges upon their oath should make resolutions to enlarge jurisdiction.
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O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
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Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys: Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
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In the vast, and the minute, we see The unambiguous footsteps of the God, Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing And wheels His throne upon the rolling worlds.
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Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies... To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
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And, of all lies (be that one poet's boast) / The lie that flatters I abhor the most.
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[My kitten's] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.
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I would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
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War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
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God never meant that man should scale the Heavens By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines.
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And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile.
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Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd, And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.
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E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
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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.
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Lights of the world, and stars of human race.
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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.
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