An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.— William Cowper
The most reckoning William Cowper quotes that are little-known but priceless
Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys: Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours.
Grief is itself a medicine.
How various his employments whom the world Calls idle;
and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connection.
Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men; Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
...So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream thy flowing wounds supply, redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within?
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.
A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun, It gives a light to every age, It gives, but borrows none.
An inadvertent step may crush the snail That crawls at evening in the public path. But he that has humanity, forewarned, Will turn aside and let the reptile live.
The darkest day, If you live till tomorrow will have past away.
As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone, And hides the ruin that it feeds upon, So sophistry, cleaves close to, and protects Sin's rotten trunk, concealing its defects.
When nations are to perish in their sins, 'tis in the Church the leprosy begins.
I pity bashful men, who feel the pain Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, And bear the marks upon a blushing face, OF needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace.
Fanaticism, the false fire of an overheated mind.
Remorse begets reform.
God made the country, and man made the town.
They fix attention, heedless of your pain, With oaths like rivets forced into the brain; And e'en when sober truth prevails throughout, They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt.
The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired to watch the sick, / whom, snoring, she disturbs.
Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth.
While truths, on which eternal things depend, can hardly find a single friend.
Heaven's harmony is universal love.
I am monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.
Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; Wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
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.
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.
The life of ease is a difficult pursuit.
Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free.
Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.
Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk, Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
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.
No man can be a patriot on an empty stomach.
Whoever keeps an open ear For tattlers will be sure to hear The trumpet of contention.
Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.
I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar;
/ And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy's door.
Nature is a good name for an effect whose cause is God.
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.
Admirals extolled for standing still, or doing nothing with a deal of skill.