Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
WILLIAM COWPERRemorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
WILLIAM COWPERThe path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
WILLIAM COWPERThrows up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
WILLIAM COWPERThe 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 COWPERGrief is itself a medicine.
WILLIAM COWPER[My kitten’s] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.
WILLIAM COWPER…So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
WILLIAM COWPERThe cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow, and when we lie down at night we may safely say to most of our troubles, “Ye have done your worst, and we shall see you no more.”
WILLIAM COWPERPleasure is labour too, and tires as much.
WILLIAM COWPERA fool must now and then be right, by chance
WILLIAM COWPERNo traveler e’er reached that blest abode who found not thorns and briers in his road.
WILLIAM COWPERAbsence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
WILLIAM COWPERA self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
WILLIAM COWPERNor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.
WILLIAM COWPERDeep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs,
WILLIAM COWPERThe only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.
WILLIAM COWPER