William Cowper

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

'Twere better to be born a stone
Of ruder shape, and feeling none,
Than with a tenderness read more

'Twere better to be born a stone
Of ruder shape, and feeling none,
Than with a tenderness like mine
And sensibilities so fine!
Ah, hapless wretch! condemn'd to dwell
Forever in my native shell,
Ordained to move when others please,
Not for my own content or ease;
But toss'd and buffeted about,
Now in the water and now out.

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The read more

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone,
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds,
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature.

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds,
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid Nature.

God made the country and man made the town.

God made the country and man made the town.