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Forgot the blush that virgin fears impart To modest cheeks, and borrowed one from art.

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
Cheeks
Modest
Fears
Blush
Art
Impart
Virgin
Forgot
Virgins
Borrowed

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It is a terrible thought, that nothing is ever forgotten that not an oath is ever uttered that does not continue to vibrate through all times, in the wide spreading current of sound that not a prayer is lisped, that its record is not to be found st
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
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I am out of humanity's reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speechI start at the sound of my own.
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The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow.
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Ten thousand casks, Forever dribbling out their base contents, Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. Drink, and be mad then 'tis your country bids!
William Cowper
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Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
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But many a crime deemed innocent on earth Is registered in Heaven and these no doubt Have each their record, with a curse annex'd.
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Sin let loose speaks punishment at hand.
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A teacher should be sparing of his smile.
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To trace in Nature's most minute design The signature and stamp of power divine. ... The Invisible in things scarce seen revealed, To whom an atom is an ample field.
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Lord, it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint Yet I love thee and adore, Oh for grace to love thee more!
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Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurl'd, To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the Pole the produce of the sun, And knit the unsocial climates into one.
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A story, in which native humour reigns, Is often useful, always entertains A graver fact, enlisted on your side, May furnish illustration, well applied But sedentary weavers of long tales Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails.
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The beggarly last doit.
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Some drill and bore The solid earth, and from the strata there Extract a register, by which we learn, That he who made it, and reveal'd its date To Moses, was mistaken in its age.
William Cowper
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Heaven's harmony is universal love.
William Cowper
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Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies... To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
William Cowper
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How shall I speak thee, or thy power address Thou God of our idolatry, the Press. . . . . Like Eden's dead probationary tree, Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.
William Cowper
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They whom truth and wisdom lead, can gather honey from a weed.
William Cowper