Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds A stream of liberal and heroic deeds; The swell of pity, not to be… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive. — William Cowper Copy Share Image
I pity bashful men, who feel the pain Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, And bear the marks upon a blushing face,… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
They love the country, and none else, who seek For their own sake its silence and its shade. Delights which who would… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum? — William Cowper Copy Share Image
Pity! Religion has so seldom found A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flowers would spring where'er she deign'd to stray And… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
And hast thou sworn on every slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the… — William Cowper Copy Share
No wild enthusiast could rest, till half the world like him was possessed. — William Cowper Copy Share
Admirals extolled for standing still, or doing nothing with a deal of skill. — William Cowper Copy Share
Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose. — William Cowper Copy Share
Stamps God's own name upon a lie just made, To turn a penny in the way of trade. — William Cowper Copy Share
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… — William Cowper Copy Share
But conversation, choose what theme we may, And chiefly when religion leads the way, Should flow, like waters after summer show'rs, Not as if… — William Cowper Copy Share
“When we don't pray, we quit the fight. Prayer keeps the Christian's armor bright. And Satan trembles when he sees. The weakest saint upon… — William Cowper Copy Share
A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your… — William Cowper Copy Share
Ten thousand casks, Forever dribbling out their base contents, Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away.… — William Cowper Copy Share
The art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue. — William Cowper Copy Share
