How happy it is to believe, with a steadfast assurance, that our petitions are heard even while we are making them; and how delightful to meet with a proof of it in the effectual and actual grant of them.
WILLIAM COWPERThere is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
More William Cowper Quotes
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A life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
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Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
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Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.
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Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything.
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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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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,
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The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.
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How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
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Events of all sorts creep or fly exactly as God pleases.
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I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar; / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy’s door.
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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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What peaceful hours I once enjoy’d! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
WILLIAM COWPER -
The 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.”
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Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
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The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
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Far happier are the dead methinks than they who look for death and fear it every day.
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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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He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color’d like his own, and having pow’r T’ enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
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The still small voice is wanted.
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A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
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Tea – the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
WILLIAM COWPER