There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.
WILLIAM COWPERAlas! 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?
More William Cowper Quotes
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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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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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Pride made the devil, and the devil made sin; So God made a cole-pit to put the devil in.
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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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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.
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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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Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in
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Grief is itself a medicine.
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[My kitten’s] gambols are not to be described, and would be incredible, if they could.
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Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
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Tea – the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
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Unless a love of virtue light the flame,
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While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.
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Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth.
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The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.
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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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The rich are too indolent, the poor too weak, to bear the insupportable fatigue of thinking.
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Vice stings us even in our pleasures, but virtue consoles us even in our pains.
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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 nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
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Absence of proof is not proof of absence.
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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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Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wife;When friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?
WILLIAM COWPER