William Cowper

All zeal for a reform, that gives offence
To peace and charity, is mere pretence.

All zeal for a reform, that gives offence
To peace and charity, is mere pretence.

Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse,
But talking is not always to converse,
Not more read more

Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse,
But talking is not always to converse,
Not more distinct from harmony divine
The constant creaking of a country sign.

Could he with reason murmur at his case,
Himself sole author of his own disgrace?

Could he with reason murmur at his case,
Himself sole author of his own disgrace?

What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching read more

What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.

As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone,
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon.

As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone,
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon.