Quote

The fall of waters and the song of birds, And hills that echo to the distant berds, Are luxuries excelling all the glare The world can boast, and her chief favorites share.

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
Bird
Waters
Share
Distant
Excelling
Water
Retirement
Luxuries
Song
Chief
Favorites
Fall
Chiefs
Glare
World
Birds
Echo
Hills
Boast
Luxury
Echoes

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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.
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War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
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Necessity invented stools, Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs, And luxury the accomplish'd Sofa last.
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God forbid that Judges upon their oath should make resolutions to enlarge jurisdiction.
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame, Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others' bare.
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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.
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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?
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Toil for the brave! The brave that are no more.
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There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart he does not feel for man.
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There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
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I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.
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Misery still delights to trace Its semblance in another's case.
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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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Happy the man who sees a God employed in all the good and ills that checker life.
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Pity! Religion has so seldom found A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flowers would spring where'er she deign'd to stray And every muse attend her in her way.
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But conversation, choose what theme we may, And chiefly when religion leads the way, Should flow, like waters after summer show'rs, Not as if raised by mere mechanic powers.
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Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
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Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd Please daily, and whose novelty survives Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years.
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No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar.
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