Quote

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at 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
Play
None
Feels
Deserve
Heart
Sight
Deserves
Love
Early
Touching
Scene
Stone
Youth
Stones
Days
Praise
Place
Weakness

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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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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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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
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All we behold is miracle.
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Transforms old print To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.
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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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Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse, But talking is not always to converse, Not more distinct from harmony divine The constant creaking of a country sign.
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Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.
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Hast thou not learnd what thou art often told, A truth still sacred, and believed of old, That no success attends on spears and swords Unblest, and that the battle is the Lords?
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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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Admirals extolled for standing still, or doing nothing with a deal of skill.
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Still ending, and beginning still.
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She that asks Her dear five hundred friends, contemns them all, And hates their coming.
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A tale should be judicious, clear, succinct The language plain, and incidents well link'd Tell not as new what ev'ry body knows and, new or old, still hasten to a close.
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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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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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No wisdom that she may gain by experience and reflection hereafter, will compensate the loss of her present hilarity.
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He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color'd like his own, and having pow'r T' enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
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O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
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If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
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