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Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.

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
Art
Farewells
Farewell
Unknown
Thou
Gone
Sound

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The slaves of custom and established mode, With pack-horse constancy we keep the road Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells, True to the jingling of our leader's bells.
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A noisy man is always in 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.
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Religion, richest favor of the skies.
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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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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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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.
William Cowper
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E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
William Cowper
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What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wifeWhen friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
William Cowper
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He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, And all are slaves besides.
William Cowper
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Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard: To carry nature lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more.
William Cowper
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Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.
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Philologists, who chase A painting syllable through time and space Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark, To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.
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The still small voice is wanted.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
William Cowper
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No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed.
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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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Remorse begets reform.
William Cowper
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Habits are soon assumed but when we strive to strip them off, 'tis being flayed alive.
William Cowper
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Poor England! thou art a devoted deer, Beset with every ill but that of fear. The nations hunt all mock thee for a prey They swarm around thee, and thou stand'st at bay.
William Cowper