William Cowper

His mind his kingdom, and his will his law.

His mind his kingdom, and his will his law.

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.

His frown was full of terror, and his voice
Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe
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His frown was full of terror, and his voice
Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe
As left him not, till penitence had won
Lost favor back again, and clos'd the breach.

No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show
That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.

No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show
That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.

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.