Quote

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

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How various his employments whom the world Calls idle and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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The darkest day, if you live till tomorrow, will have passed away.
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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
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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.
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Made poetry a mere mechanic art.
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It is a general rule of Judgment, that a mischief should rather be admitted than an inconvenience.
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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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Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
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We sacrifice to dress till household joys and comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, and keeps our larder lean.
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Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die
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O Winter! ruler of the inverted year, . . . I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know.
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The beggarly last doit.
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A Christian's wit is offensive light, A beam that aids, but never grieves the sight Vig'rous in age as in the flush of youth, 'Tis always active on the side of truth.
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God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
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An inadvertent step may crush the snail That crawls at evening in the public path. But he that has humanity, forewarned, Will turn aside and let the reptile live.
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His wit invites you by his looks to come, But when you knock, it never is at home.
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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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The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.
William Cowper
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As if the world and they were hand and glove.
William Cowper