William Cowper
William Cowper
William Cowper was an English poet and hymnodist. One of the most popular poets of his time, Cowper changed the direction of 18th century nature poetry by writing of everyday life and scenes of the English countryside. In many ways, he was one of the forerunners of Romantic poetry. Samuel Taylor Coleridge called him "the best modern poet", whilst William Wordsworth particularly admired his poem Yardley-Oak. He was a nephew of the poet Judith Madan...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth26 November 1731
aching hours left memory peaceful sweet void
What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! / How sweet their memory still! / But they have left an aching void / The world can never fill.
sweet flower bud
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
anticipate blood brighter claim divinely earn ensure equal feed few immortal liberty loved martyrs noblest remember spent struggle sweets time walk win
A patriot's blood,Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed,And for a time ensure to his loved land,The sweets of liberty and equal laws;But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize,And win it with more pain. Their blood is shedIn confirmation of the noblest claim --Our claim to feed upon immortal truth,To walk with God, to be divinely free,To soar, and to anticipate the skies.Yet few remember them.
anticipate blood brighter claim divinely earn ensure equal feed few immortal liberty loved martyrs noblest remember shed spent struggle sweets time truth walk win
A patriot's blood, Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed, And for a time ensure to his loved land, The sweets of liberty and equal laws; But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize, And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed In confirmation of the noblest claim -- Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, To walk with God, to be divinely free, To soar, and to anticipate the skies. Yet few remember them.
friend grant passing praise remark shrewd solitude sweet whisper whom
I praise the Frenchman, his remark was shrewd - How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, Whom I may whisper Solitude is sweet
sweet heart men
O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
sweet memories fall
How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at interval upon the ear In cadence sweet; now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.
sweet judging grace
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour;The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan His work in vain; God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain.
sweet heart men
Oh, popular applause! what heart of man Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms? The wisest and the best feel urgent need Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales; But swell'd into a gust--who then, alas! With all his canvas set, and inexpert, And therefore, heedless, can withstand thy power?
sweet poverty pleasure
Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd, And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few.
sweet moving fall
Come, evening, once again, season of peace; Return, sweet evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west, With matron step, slow moving, while the night Treads on thy sweeping train; one hand employ'd In letting fall the curtain of repose On bird and beast, the other charged for man With sweet oblivion of the cares of day.
sweet sadness eye
The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns; The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, And sullen sadness, that o'ershade, distort, And mar the face of beauty, when no cause For such immeasurable woe appears; These Flora banishes, and gives the fair Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own.
sweet retirement thinking
The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade Pants for the refuge of some rural shade, Where all his long anxieties forgot Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot, Or recollected only to gild o'er And add a smile to what was sweet before, He may possess the joys he thinks he sees, Lay his old age upon the lap of ease, Improve the remnant of his wasted span. And having lived a trifler, die a man.
sweet journey humanity
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.