William Cowper ( 10 of 184 )
Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm read more
Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
O Popular Applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
O Popular Applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the centre read more
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.
Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 O for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame, read more
Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 O for a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame, A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb Return, O holy Dove, return, Sweet messenger of rest! I hate the sins that made Thee mourn And drove Thee from my breast The dearest idol I have known, Whate'er that idol be, Help me to tear it from Thy throne, And worship only Thee. So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb.
Nature, exerting an unwearied power,
Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower;
Spreads the fresh verdure read more
Nature, exerting an unwearied power,
Forms, opens, and gives scent to every flower;
Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads
The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own.
Silently as a dream the fabric rose;
No sound of hammer or of saw was there.
Silently as a dream the fabric rose;
No sound of hammer or of saw was there.
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest read more
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-winged arrows of light.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are slaves besides.
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are slaves besides.
