William Cowper Quotes

England, with all thy faults, I love thee still— My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee.

And Katerfelto, with his hair on end At his own wonders, wondering for his bread. 'T is pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world,—to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.

Acquaint thyself with God, if thou would'st taste His works. Admitted once to his embrace, Thou shalt perceive that thou was blind before: Thine eye shall be instructed; and thine heart Made pure shall relish with divine delight Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought.

Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.

Happy the bard, (if that fair name belong
To him that blends no fable with his song)
Whose lines uniting, by an honest art,
The faithful monitors and poets part,
Seek to delight, that they may mend mankind,
And while they captivate, inform the mind.
Still happier, if he till a thankful soil,
And fruit reward his honorable toil:
But happier far who comfort those that wait
To hear plain truth at Judah's hallow'd gate

Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own.

Remorse, the fatal egg by Pleasure laid.

How various his employments whom the world Calls idle, and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!

Philologists, who chase A panting syllable through time and space, Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's ark.

All learned, and all drunk!

Doing good,
Disinterested good, is not our trade.

I shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau If birds confabulate or no.

Typerien edelläkävijoiden seuraaminen ja molempien silmien ummistaminen on helpompaa kuin ajatteleminen.

And still to love, though prest with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary!

Low ambition and the thirst of praise.