God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
Go, mark the matchless working of the power That shuts within the seed the future flower; Bids these in elegance of form… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money, Pride made the devil, and the devil made… — William Cowper Copy Share Image
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. — 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
