Quote

When I thinkof my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.

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
Hands
Native
Seems
Despair
Back
Soon
Seem
Land
Hand
Hurries
Moment
Recollection
Moments
Alas

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The mind, relaxing into needful sport, Should turn to writers of an abler sort, Whose wit well managed, and whose classic style, Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile.
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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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Religion Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None as invincible as they.
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Great offices will have great talents, and God gives to every man the virtue, temper, understanding, taste, that lifts him into life, and lets him fall just in the niche he was ordained to fill.
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In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that ministers, And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn: Object of my implacable disgust.
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Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: hell might afford my miseries a shelter therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me.
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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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No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.
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Where men of judgment creep and feel their way, The positive pronounce without dismay.
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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
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A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
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How readily we wish time spent revoked, that we might try the ground again where once--through inexperience, as we now perceive--we missed that happiness we might have found!
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No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar.
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The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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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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O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
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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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Some to the fascination of a name, Surrender judgment hoodwinked.
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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.
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