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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.

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
Bred
Courtesy
Sensible
Manners
Moral
Wells
Well
Affront

More quotes by 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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Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
William Cowper
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Religion does not censure or exclude Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.
William Cowper
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As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone, And hides the ruin that it feeds upon, So sophistry, cleaves close to, and protects Sin's rotten trunk, concealing its defects.
William Cowper
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How various his employments whom the world Calls idle and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
William Cowper
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How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
William Cowper
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O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, . . . I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know.
William Cowper
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I have a kitten,the drollest of all creatures that ever wore a cat's skin.
William Cowper
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Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.
William Cowper
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The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow, and when we lie down at night we may safely say to most of our troubles, Ye have done your worst, and we shall see you no more.
William Cowper
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Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
William Cowper
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Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
William Cowper
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The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again, pronounce a text, Cry hem and reading what they never wrote Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!
William Cowper
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Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream.
William Cowper
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Stamps God's own name upon a lie just made, To turn a penny in the way of trade.
William Cowper
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Come, evening, once again, season of peace Return, sweet evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west, With matron step, slow moving, while the night Treads on thy sweeping train one hand employ'd In letting fall the curtain of repose On bird and beast, the other charged for man With sweet oblivion of the cares of day.
William Cowper
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I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.
William Cowper
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For 'tis a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost, We seek it, ere it comes to light, In every cranny but the right.
William Cowper
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An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
William Cowper
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As if the world and they were hand and glove.
William Cowper