William Cowper

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

I pity bashful men, who feel the pain
Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain,
And bear the read more

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.

The faults of our neighbours with freedom we blame,
But tax not ourselves, though we practise the same.

The faults of our neighbours with freedom we blame,
But tax not ourselves, though we practise the same.

O solitude, where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the read more

O 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.

The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
read more

The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then skip down again, pronounce a text,
Cry hem; and reading what they never wrote
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!