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.
WILLIAM COWPEREngland 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.
WILLIAM COWPERWe are never more in danger than when we think ourselves most secure, nor in reality more secure than when we seem to be most in danger.
WILLIAM COWPERThe Spirit breathes upon the Word and brings the truth to sight.
WILLIAM COWPERThe nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
WILLIAM COWPERBooks are not seldom talismans and spells.
WILLIAM COWPERA heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
WILLIAM COWPERKnowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men; Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
WILLIAM COWPERBlind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
WILLIAM COWPERYe therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
WILLIAM COWPERGlory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
WILLIAM COWPERPerhaps thou gav’st me, though unseen, a kiss; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
WILLIAM COWPERThere is in souls a sympathy with sounds.
WILLIAM COWPERRemorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid, In every bosom where her nest is made, Hatched by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast.
WILLIAM COWPERNo traveler e’er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.
WILLIAM COWPERSatire is, more than those he brands, to blame; He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others’ bare.
WILLIAM COWPERThrows up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
WILLIAM COWPER