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I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.

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
Brute
Sea
None
Surveys
Lord
Royalty
Monarch
Right
Brutes
Fowl
Disputes
Survey
Centre
Monarchs
Round
Dispute
Rounds

More quotes by William Cowper

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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.
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He that has seen both sides of fifty has lived to little purpose if he has no other views of the world than he had when he was much younger.
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I would not have a slave to till my ground, To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
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This cabin, Mary, in my sight appears, Built as it has been in our waning years, A rest afforded to our weary feet, Preliminary to - the last retreat.
William Cowper
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He that attends to his interior self, That has a heart, and keeps it has a mind That hungers, and supplies it and who seeks A social, not a dissipated life, Has business.
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Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
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For when was public virtue to be found Where private was not?
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As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone, And hides the ruin that it feeds upon, So sophistry, cleaves close to, and protects Sin's rotten trunk, concealing its defects.
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I will venture to assert, that a just translation of any ancient poet in rhyme is impossible. No human ingenuity can be equal to the task of closing every couplet with sounds homotonous, expressing at the same time the full sense, and only the full sense of his original.
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Spare feast! a radish and an egg.
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All zeal for a reform, that gives offence To peace and charity, is mere pretence.
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Without one friend, above all foes, Britannia gives the world repose.
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Far happier are the dead methinks than they who look for death and fear it every day.
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Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
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Still ending, and beginning still.
William Cowper
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He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color'd like his own, and having pow'r T' enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
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How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
William Cowper
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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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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The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
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