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When from soft love proceeds the deep distress, ah! why forbid the willing tears to flow?

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
Deep
Willing
Forbid
Love
Proceeds
Weeping
Distress
Soft
Flow
Tears

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No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed.
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To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.
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Some to the fascination of a name, Surrender judgment hoodwinked.
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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!
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God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
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They fix attention, heedless of your pain, With oaths like rivets forced into the brain And e'en when sober truth prevails throughout, They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt.
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The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, And sullen sadness, that o'ershade, distort, And mar the face of beauty, when no cause For such immeasurable woe appears These Flora banishes, and gives the fair Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own.
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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.
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He that runs may read.
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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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The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
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There is mercy in every place. And mercy, encouraging thought gives even affliction a grace and reconciles man to his lot.
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[My kitten] is dressed in a tortoise-shell suit, and I know you will delight in her.
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Sacred interpreter of human thought, How few respect or use thee as they ought! But all shall give account of every wrong, Who dare dishonor or defile the tongue Who prostitute it in the cause of vice, Or sell their glory at a market-price!
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There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart he does not feel for man.
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A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
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The fall of waters and the song of birds, And hills that echo to the distant berds, Are luxuries excelling all the glare The world can boast, and her chief favorites share.
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Strange as it may seem, the most ludicrous lines I ever wrote have been written in the saddest mood.
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That good diffused may more abundant grow.
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Heaven's harmony is universal love.
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