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We sacrifice to dress till household joys and comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, and keeps our larder lean.
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
Till
Cellars
Cease
Comforts
Dresses
Drains
Keeps
Lean
Sacrifice
Joys
Comfort
Dry
Joy
Household
Dress
Cellar
More quotes by William Cowper
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys: Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
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Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
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If a great man struggling with misfortunes is a noble object, a little man that despises them is no contemptible one.
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A fool must now and then be right, by chance
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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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Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.
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A life all turbulence and noise may seem To him that leads it wise and to be praised, But wisdom is a pearl with most success Sought in still waters.
William Cowper
Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.
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Religion does not censure or exclude Unnumbered pleasures, harmlessly pursued.
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Absence of occupation is not rest A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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What we admire we praise and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.
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The mind, relaxing into needful sport, Should turn to writers of an abler sort, Whose wit well managed, and whose classic style, Give truth a lustre, and make wisdom smile.
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When I thinkof my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there But alas! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
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Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
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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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Books are not seldom talismans and spells.
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A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
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The solemn fop significant and budge A fool with judges, amongst fools a judge
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Call'd to the temple of impure delight He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.
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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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