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Man in society is like a flow'r, Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone His faculties expanded in full bloom Shine out, there only reach their proper use.
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
Alone
Faculty
Society
Native
Use
Proper
Men
Shining
Expanded
Like
Bed
Bloom
Flow
Faculties
Reach
Blown
Full
Shine
More quotes by William Cowper
Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
William Cowper
Nature, exerting an unwearied power, Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads.
William Cowper
Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
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Religion! what treasure untold resides in that heavenly word!
William Cowper
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
William Cowper
God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
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Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
William Cowper
...So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
William Cowper
Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good fame,--all these belong to virtue, and all prove that virtue has a title to your love.
William Cowper
Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
William Cowper
Laugh at all you trembled at before.
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No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.
William Cowper
Admirals extolled for standing still, or doing nothing with a deal of skill.
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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.
William Cowper
Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.
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The proud are ever most provoked by pride.
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A fool must now and then be right, by chance
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Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
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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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An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
William Cowper