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Remorse, 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 Cowper

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.
WILLIAM COWPER

Lodge Solitude Some Successful War Wilderness
Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.
WILLIAM COWPER

Another Detect Hunting Owe Pain Sport
What we admire we praise; and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.
WILLIAM COWPER

Acknowledge Admire Advance May Other Praise Worth
God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
WILLIAM COWPER

Beach God Moving Mysterious Perform Wonder
Alas! if my best Friend, who laid down His life for me, were to remember all the instances in which I have neglected Him, and to plead them against me in judgment, where should I hide my guilty head in the day of recompense?
WILLIAM COWPER

Alast Best Blessing Enemy Forgiveness Friend Instance Life Neglect Remember
Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
WILLIAM COWPER

Admit Degrees Enslave Judgment Leave Pleasure
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.
WILLIAM COWPER

Doctrine Hand Heart Life Man Pure Venerate
Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it.
WILLIAM COWPER

Alone Flower Luster Perfume Weed Wisdom
A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
WILLIAM COWPER

Creator Made Man Pride Self Worship
I am out of humanity’s reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speech;I start at the sound of my own.
WILLIAM COWPER

Humanity Journey Music Reach Speech Sweet
Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.
WILLIAM COWPER

Love Mercy Son Therefore
Blest be the art that can immortalize,–the art that baffles time’s tyrannic claim to quench it.
WILLIAM COWPER

Art Baffle Claim Immortalize Painting Quench Time Tyrannic
Remorse, 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 COWPER

Bosom Eggs Fatal Laid Made Nest Pleasure Remorse Scorpions
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

Address Anxious Become Change Conscious Feed Gesture Grace Guilt Impressed Messenger Much Tender
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
WILLIAM COWPER

Garden Gardening Greenhouses Love
No traveler e’er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.
WILLIAM COWPER

Acceptance Found Thorns Traveler

Remorse, 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.

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Remorse, 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.

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Popular Authors

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