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 COWPERAbsence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
More William Cowper Quotes
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But oars alone can ne’er prevail To reach the distant coast; The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.
WILLIAM COWPER -
He that has seen both sides of fifty has lived to little purpose if he has no other views of the world than he had when he was much younger.
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The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.
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God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
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Sends Nature forth the daughter of the skies… To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes.
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God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money,
WILLIAM COWPER -
The man to solitude accustom’d long, Perceives in everything that lives a tongue; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees Have speech for him, and understood with ease,
WILLIAM COWPER -
Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything.
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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 bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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War’s a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
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There is mercy in every place. And mercy, encouraging thought gives even affliction a grace and reconciles man to his lot.
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Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth.
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Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, ’tis being flayed alive.
WILLIAM COWPER -
Truth is the golden girdle of the globe.
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What peaceful hours I once enjoy’d! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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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.
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Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze.
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…So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
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Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
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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.
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Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
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All we behold is miracle.
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Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connection.
WILLIAM COWPER