William Cowper ( 10 of 184 )
For 'tis a truth well known to most,
That whatsoever thing is lost,
We seek it, ere read more
For 'tis a truth well known to most,
That whatsoever thing is lost,
We seek it, ere it comes to light,
In every cranny but the right.
Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
read more
Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain,
And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture; much impress'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look,
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men.
I praise the Frenchman; his remark was shrewd,--
"How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude."
But grant read more
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.
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.
The earth was made so various, that the mind
Of desultory man, studious of change
And pleased read more
The earth was made so various, that the mind
Of desultory man, studious of change
And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, excels a dunce that has been kept at home.
Pleasure admitted in undue degree
Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
Pleasure admitted in undue degree
Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
So that the jest is clearly to be seen,
Not in the words--but in the gap between;
read more
So that the jest is clearly to be seen,
Not in the words--but in the gap between;
Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,
The substitute for genius, sense, and wit.
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.
