Absence of occupation is not rest.
WILLIAM COWPERThe kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.
More William Cowper Quotes
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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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Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.
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All we behold is miracle.
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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.
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God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money,
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Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer keeps the Christian’s armor bright; And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
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Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
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We 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.
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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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Pride made the devil, and the devil made sin; So God made a cole-pit to put the devil in.
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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.
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Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
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Time, as he passes us, has a dove’s wing, Unsoil’d, and swift, and of a silken sound.
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The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
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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.
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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?
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A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
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Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head
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To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
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Manner is all in all, whate’er is writ,The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame; He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others’ bare.
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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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In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
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It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme.
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
WILLIAM COWPER -
Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
WILLIAM COWPER