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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
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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
Virtue
Sense
Title
Good
Titles
Love
Belong
Conscience
Fame
Prove
Health
More quotes by William Cowper
Books are not seldom talismans and spells.
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Is base in kind, and born to be a slave.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs
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The innocent seldom find an uncomfortable pillow.
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Misses! the tale that I relate This lesson seems to carry-- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry.
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Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
William Cowper
What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
William Cowper
Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.
William Cowper
Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connection. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
William Cowper
A moral, sensible, and well-bred manWill not affront me, and no other can.
William Cowper
Strength may wield the ponderous spade, May turn the clod, and wheel the compost home But elegance, chief grace the garden shows, And most attractive, is the fair result Of thought, the creature of a polished mind.
William Cowper
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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Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
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God never meant that man should scale the Heavens By strides of human wisdom. In his works, Though wondrous, he commands us in his word To seek him rather where his mercy shines.
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When scandal has new-minted an old lie, Or tax'd invention for a fresh supply, 'Tis call'd a satire, and the world appears Gathering around it with erected ears A thousand names are toss'd into the crowd, Some whisper'd softly, and some twang'd aloud, Just as the sapience of an author's brain, Suggests it safe or dangerous to be plain.
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O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
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There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart he does not feel for man.
William Cowper
With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.
William Cowper