Quotes from William Cowper

An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.

How various his employments whom the world Calls idle; and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!

Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.

All affectation; 'tis my perfect scorn; Object of my implacable disgust

Ye who, borne about in chariots and sedans know no fatigue but that of idleness.

England with all thy faults, I love thee still-- My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee.

Whoever keeps an open ear For tattlers will be sure to hear The trumpet of contention.

Mountains interposed Make enemies of nations, who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one.

That good diffused may more abundant grow.

Doing good, Disinterested good, is not our trade.

Visitors are insatiable devourers of time, and fit only for those who, if they did not visit, would do nothing.

My sin and judgment are alike peculiar. I am a castaway, deserted and condemned.

Absence of occupation is not rest; A mind quite vacant is a mind distressed.

Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair

Absence from whom we love is worse than death.

The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.

The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleased with novelty, might be indulged.

His still refuted quirks he still repeats. New-raised objections with new quibbles meets; Till sinking in the quicksand he defends, He dies disputing, and the contest ends.

Knowledge and Wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connexion, Knowledge dwells in heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.

Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains Which only poets know.

God made the country, and man made the town.