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Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.

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
Quench
Claim
Claims
Painting
Art
Time
Immortalize
Baffles
Blest

More quotes by William Cowper

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Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name, But England's Milton equals both in fame.
William Cowper
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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
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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How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
William Cowper
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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.
William Cowper
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God never meant that man should scale the Heavens By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines.
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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Religion, if in heavenly truths attired, Needs only to be seen to be admired.
William Cowper
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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
William Cowper
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
William Cowper
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Go, mark the matchless working of the power That shuts within the seed the future flower Bids these in elegance of form excel. In color these, and those delight the smell Sends nature forth, the daughter of the skies, To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
William Cowper
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Did Charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
William Cowper
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O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
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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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
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A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
William Cowper
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To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.
William Cowper
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Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds A stream of liberal and heroic deeds The swell of pity, not to be confined Within the scanty limits of the mind.
William Cowper
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How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at interval upon the ear In cadence sweet now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
William Cowper
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
William Cowper