William Cowper Quotes
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As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone, And hides the ruin that it feeds upon, So sophistry, cleaves close to, and protects Sin's rotten trunk, concealing its defects.
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Religion Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None as invincible as they.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour;The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain; God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.
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A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
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Remorse begets reform.
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Spare feast! a radish and an egg.
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There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart; he does not feel for man.
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Books are not seldom talismans and spells.
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Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name, But England's Milton equals both in fame.
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When nations are to perish in their sins, 'tis in the Church the leprosy begins.
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Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.
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A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
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And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within?
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
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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. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
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Thieves at home must hang; but he that puts Into his overgorged and bloated purse The wealth of Indian provinces, escapes.
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If hindrances obstruct the way, Thy magnanimity display. And let thy strength be seen: But O, if Fortune fill thy sail With more than a propitious gale, Take half thy canvas in.
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Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
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Some to the fascination of a name, Surrender judgment hoodwinked.
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Religion, richest favor of the skies.