Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer; Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.
WILLIAM COWPERDeep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
More William Cowper Quotes
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Some people are more nice than wise.
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I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.
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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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If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.
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Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
WILLIAM COWPER -
God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money,
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Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame; He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others’ bare.
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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.
WILLIAM COWPER -
To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
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Oh to have a lodge in some vast wilderness. Where rumors of oppression and deceit, of unsuccessful and successful wars may never reach me anymore.
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Manner is all in all, whate’er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
WILLIAM COWPER -
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
WILLIAM COWPER -
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.
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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;
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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
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Grief is itself a medicine.
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The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
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Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies… To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
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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.
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While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.
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Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy.
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The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
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Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer keeps the Christian’s armor bright; And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
WILLIAM COWPER