Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze.
WILLIAM COWPERIt chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
More William Cowper Quotes
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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
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Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another’s pain.
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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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The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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What we admire we praise; and when we praise, Advance it into notice, that its worth Acknowledged, others may admire it too.
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Blest be the art that can immortalize,–the art that baffles time’s tyrannic claim to quench it.
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Great offices will have great talents, and God gives to every man the virtue, temper, understanding, taste, that lifts him into life, and lets him fall just in the niche he was ordained to fill.
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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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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.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
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Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die
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The innocent seldom find an uncomfortable pillow.
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Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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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.
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What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wife;When friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
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Happy the man who sees a God employed in all the good and ills that checker life.
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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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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.
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Pleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
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Tea – the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
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No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.
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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