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All affectation 'tis my perfect scorn Object of my implacable disgust.

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
Perfect
Implacable
Affectation
Disgust
Scorn
Disgusting
Object
Objects

More quotes by William Cowper

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A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
William Cowper
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Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
William Cowper
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Heaven's harmony is universal love.
William Cowper
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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!
William Cowper
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Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.
William Cowper
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Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true,- A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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He that has seen both sides of fifty has lived to little purpose if he has no other views of the world than he had when he was much younger.
William Cowper
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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
William Cowper
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Forced from home, and all its pleasures, afric coast I left forlorn to increase a stranger's treasures, o the raging billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me, paid my price in paltry gold but, though theirs they have enroll'd me, minds are never to be sold.
William Cowper
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His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.
William Cowper
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To see the Law by Christ fulfilled, And hear His pardoning voice Changes a slave into a child, And duty into choice.
William Cowper
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Nature, exerting an unwearied power, Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads.
William Cowper
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Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good fame,--all these belong to virtue, and all prove that virtue has a title to your love.
William Cowper
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Remorse begets reform.
William Cowper
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But war's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings should not play at. Nations would do well To extort their truncheons from the puny hands Of heroes, whose infirm and baby minds Are gratified with mischief, and who spoil, Because men suffer it, their toy the world.
William Cowper
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Absence of occupation is not rest.
William Cowper
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This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life's long race, Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway, We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.
William Cowper
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The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
William Cowper
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Still ending, and beginning still.
William Cowper