Quote

A story, in which native humour reigns, Is often useful, always entertains A graver fact, enlisted on your side, May furnish illustration, well applied But sedentary weavers of long tales Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.

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
Wells
Sides
Reign
Weavers
Well
Story
Humour
Enlisted
Giving
Fact
Native
Sedentary
Long
Often
Tales
Furnish
Always
Facts
Useful
Reigns
Stories
Patience
Illustration
Give
Failing
Applied
Graver
May
Side
Fails
Entertains

More quotes by William Cowper

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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
William Cowper
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Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home.
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.
William Cowper
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Learning itself, received into a mind By nature weak, or viciously inclined, Serves but to lead philosophers astray, Where children would with ease discern the way.
William Cowper
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A Christian's wit is offensive light, A beam that aids, but never grieves the sight Vig'rous in age as in the flush of youth, 'Tis always active on the side of truth.
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
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Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
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The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.
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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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I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.
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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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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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Most satirists are indeed a public scourge Their mildest physic is a farrier's purge Their acrid temper turns, as soon as stirr'd, The milk of their good purpose all to curd. Their zeal begotten, as their works rehearse, By lean despair upon an empty purse.
William Cowper
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But war's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings should not play at. Nations would do well To extort their truncheons from the puny hands Of heroes, whose infirm and baby minds Are gratified with mischief, and who spoil, Because men suffer it, their toy the world.
William Cowper
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Even in the stifling bosom of the town, A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms That soothes the rich possessor much consol'd, That here and there some sprigs of mournful mint, Or nightshade, or valerian, grace the well He cultivates.
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How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
William Cowper
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Laugh at all you trembled at before.
William Cowper
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I have a kitten,the drollest of all creatures that ever wore a cat's skin.
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
William Cowper
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
William Cowper