God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.
WILLIAM COWPERA fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
More William Cowper Quotes
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…So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
WILLIAM COWPER -
The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow, and when we lie down at night we may safely say to most of our troubles, “Ye have done your worst, and we shall see you no more.”
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.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Time, as he passes us, has a dove’s wing, Unsoil’d, and swift, and of a silken sound.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.
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.
WILLIAM COWPER -
No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.
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Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
WILLIAM COWPER -
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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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
WILLIAM COWPER -
And natural in gesture; much impress’d Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
WILLIAM COWPER -
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die
WILLIAM COWPER