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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
Vice
Vices
Virtue
Pleasure
Consoles
Pain
Stings
Even
Console
Pains
Pleasures
More quotes by William Cowper
If a great man struggling with misfortunes is a noble object, a little man that despises them is no contemptible one.
William Cowper
The Cross! There, and there only (though the deist rave, and the atheist, if Earth bears so base a slave) There and there only, is the power to save.
William Cowper
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.
William Cowper
But animated nature sweeter still, to soothe and satisfy the human ear.
William Cowper
Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own disgrace?
William Cowper
[My kitten's] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.
William Cowper
I have a kitten,the drollest of all creatures that ever wore a cat's skin.
William Cowper
Heaven's harmony is universal love.
William Cowper
Did Charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
William Cowper
The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
William Cowper
Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of paradise that has surviv'd the fall!
William Cowper
Blest be the art that can immortalize.
William Cowper
The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue the only lasting treasure, truth.
William Cowper
How fleet is a glance of the mind! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light.
William Cowper
The proud are ever most provoked by pride.
William Cowper
Come, evening, once again, season of peace Return, sweet evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west, With matron step, slow moving, while the night Treads on thy sweeping train one hand employ'd In letting fall the curtain of repose On bird and beast, the other charged for man With sweet oblivion of the cares of day.
William Cowper
She that asks Her dear five hundred friends, contemns them all, And hates their coming.
William Cowper
The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue.
William Cowper
Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds A stream of liberal and heroic deeds The swell of pity, not to be confined Within the scanty limits of the mind.
William Cowper
Fancy, like the finger of a clock, Runs the great circuit, and is still at home.
William Cowper
