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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
Tears
Deep
Willing
Forbid
Love
Proceeds
Weeping
Distress
Soft
Flow

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Blest be the art that can immortalize.
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Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry-- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.
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Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of paradise that has surviv'd the fall!
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The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
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What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns?
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
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An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
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Toil for the brave! The brave that are no more.
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Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost.
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Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth. While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.
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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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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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Not a flower But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain, Of his unrivall'd pencil. He inspires Their balmy odors, and imparts their hues, And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes In grains as countless as the seaside sands, The forms with which he sprinkles all the earth Happy who walks with him!
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Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, the mere materials with which wisdom builds, till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
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