William Cowper

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the read more

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.

. . . Philologists, who chase
A painting syllable through time and space
Start it at home, read more

. . . Philologists, who chase
A painting syllable through time and space
Start it at home, and hunt it in the dark,
To Gaul, to Greece, and into Noah's Ark.

Commemoration of Charles Williams, Spiritual Writer, 1945 I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth read more

Commemoration of Charles Williams, Spiritual Writer, 1945 I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to share; Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures there. It was the sight of Thy dear cross First weaned my soul from earthly things; And taught me to esteem as dross The mirth of fools, and pomp of kings. I want that grace that springs from Thee, That quickens all things where it flows; And makes a wretched thorn like me Bloom as the myrtle or the rose. Dear fountain of delight unknown! No longer sink beneath the brim, But overflow, and pour me down A living and life-giving stream! For sure, if all the plants that share The notice of Thy Father's eye, None proves less grateful to His care, Or yields Him meaner fruit than I.

His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
read more

His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
But strong for service still, and unimpair'd.

Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Become more rare as dissipation spreads,
Till authors hear at length read more

Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Become more rare as dissipation spreads,
Till authors hear at length one general cry
Tickle and entertain us, or we die!