William Cowper (1731 – 1800)
English poet and hymnodist.
Shine by the side of every path we tread
With such a luster, he that runs may read.
Low ambition and the thirst of praise.
Misses! the tale that I relate
This lesson seems to carry —
Choose not alone a proper mate,
But proper time to marry.
Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free,
And give them voice and utterance once again.
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups
That cheer but not inebriate wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Thus happiness depends, as Nature shows,
Less on exterior things than most suppose.
I would not enter on my list of friends,
(Though graced with polish'd manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility) the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
An inadvertent step may crush the snail
That crawls at evening in the public path;
But he that has humanity, forewarn'd,
Will tread aside, and let the reptile live.
And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free!
They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
O Winter, ruler of the inverted year!
Acquaint thyself with God, if thou would'st taste
His works. Admitted once to his embrace,
Thou shalt perceive that thou was blind before:
Thine eye shall be instructed; and thine heart
Made pure shall relish with divine delight
Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought.
Presume to lay their hand upon the ark
Of her magnificent and awful cause.
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.
Elegant as simplicity, and warm
As ecstasy.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Great contest follows, and much learned dust
Involves the combatants; each claiming truth,
And truth disclaiming both.
"Regions Caesar never knew
Thy posterity shall sway;
Where his eagles never flew,
None invincible as they."
Those golden times
And those Arcadian scenes that Maro sings,
And Sidney, warbler of poetic prose.
It seems the part of wisdom.
Lights of the world, and stars of human race.