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God moves in mysterious ways His wonders to performs

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Moving Mysterious Perform Way Wonder

Bagwalas

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain; God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.
WILLIAM COWPER

Bitter Bud God Interpreter Olan Sweet Taste Unbelief Vain Will
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

Air Brisk Ear Heart Martial Melt Mind Music Pease Pitch Soul Sound Sympathy
The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
WILLIAM COWPER

Amarantine Earth Flower Only Virtue
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
After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
WILLIAM COWPER

Abundant After Drought Fall Flower Herb Long Rain Rejoice
We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
WILLIAM COWPER

Death Die Dust Mightiest Turn Work
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
WILLIAM COWPER

Garden Gardening Greenhouses Love
Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
WILLIAM COWPER

Compassion Dismiss God Heart Men
Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
WILLIAM COWPER

Admit Degrees Enslave Judgment Leave Pleasure
They whom truth and wisdom lead, can gather honey from a weed.
WILLIAM COWPER

Gather Honey Lead Truth Weed Wisdom
All we behold is miracle.
WILLIAM COWPER

All Behold Miracle
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
WILLIAM COWPER

Friend Grant Loneliness Pas Retreat Solitude Sweet Whisper
Grief is itself a medicine.
WILLIAM COWPER

Death Grief Itself Medicine Pain
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
Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die
WILLIAM COWPER

Good Grow Living Lying Quality Sanctuary Sick Solitude
Books are not seldom talismans and spells.
WILLIAM COWPER

Book Seldom Spell

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