Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
WILLIAM COWPERReasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
More William Cowper Quotes
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War’s a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze.
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Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
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Time, as he passes us, has a dove’s wing, Unsoil’d, and swift, and of a silken sound.
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Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
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Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
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Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.
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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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The innocent seldom find an uncomfortable pillow.
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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.
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Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
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The man to solitude accustom’d long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease,
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And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow’d perhaps by a smile.
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
WILLIAM COWPER