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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
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
Vices
Virtue
Pleasure
Consoles
Pain
Stings
Even
Console
Pains
Pleasures
Vice
More quotes by William Cowper
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
William Cowper
Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
William Cowper
And, of all lies (be that one poet's boast) / The lie that flatters I abhor the most.
William Cowper
The parable of the prodigal son, the most beautiful fiction that ever was invented our Saviour's speech to His disciples, with which He closed His earthly ministrations, full of the sublimest dignity and tenderest affection, surpass everything that I ever read and like the spirit by which they were dictated, fly directly to the heart.
William Cowper
Religion, richest favor of the skies.
William Cowper
The few that pray at all pray oft amiss.
William Cowper
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
William Cowper
Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
William Cowper
A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun, It gives a light to every age, It gives, but borrows none.
William Cowper
Lights of the world, and stars of human race.
William Cowper
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
William Cowper
Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.
William Cowper
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
William Cowper
The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk, Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.
William Cowper
The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
William Cowper
Absence of occupation is not rest A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
William Cowper
Happy the man who sees a God employed in all the good and ills that checker life.
William Cowper
Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
William Cowper
Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
