Quote

A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun, It gives a light to every age, It gives, but borrows none.

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
Glory
Borrows
Gives
Majestic
Age
Scripture
Light
Page
Giving
Sacred
Every
Pages
Like
None
Sun
Gilds

More quotes by William Cowper

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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
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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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He that attends to his interior self, That has a heart, and keeps it has a mind That hungers, and supplies it and who seeks A social, not a dissipated life, Has business.
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Lights of the world, and stars of human race.
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The innocent seldom find an uncomfortable pillow.
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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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His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.
William Cowper
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Visits are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not that, would do nothing.
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Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
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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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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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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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Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd Please daily, and whose novelty survives Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years.
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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.
William Cowper
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The man to solitude accustom'd long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease, After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
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No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar.
William Cowper
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All affectation 'tis my perfect scorn Object of my implacable disgust.
William Cowper
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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.
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What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wifeWhen friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
William Cowper
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And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.
William Cowper