The Poetical Works of William Cowper

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H.G. Bohn, 1854
 

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Page 60 - The hand that gave it still supplies The gracious light and heat ; His truths upon the nations rise, — They rise, but never set.
Page 254 - He that holds fast the golden mean And lives contentedly between The little and the great Feels not the wants that pinch the poor Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door, Imbittering all his state.
Page 256 - THERE is a bird, who by his coat, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow; A great frequenter of the church, Where bishoplike he finds a perch, And dormitory too. Above the steeple shines a plate, That turns and turns, to indicate From what point blows the weather. Look up— your brains begin to swim, 'Tis in the clouds— that pleases him, He chooses it the rather.
Page 72 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far ; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. 2 The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree, And seem by thy sweet bounty made, For those who follow thee.
Page 136 - Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ; Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true A. truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes Her title to a treasure in the skies.
Page 58 - Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, And every place is hallowed ground. 2 For Thou, within no walls confined, Inhabitest the humble mind ; Such ever bring Thee where they come, And going, take Thee to their home.
Page 38 - Oh! for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb!
Page 240 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute, From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 0 solitude ! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
Page 197 - Vociferated logic kills me quite, A noisy man is always in the right, I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair, Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare, And, when I hope his blunders are all out, Reply discreetly — To be sure — no doubt ! Dubius is such a scrupulous good man — Yes — you may catch him tripping, if you can.
Page 120 - Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears, Our most important are our earliest years. The mind, impressible and soft, with ease Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clue That education gives her, false or true.

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