From A Letter To The Rev. Mr. Newton, Late Rector Of St. Mary Woolnoth.

Says the pipe to the snuff-box, I cant understand
What the ladies and gentlemen see in your face,
That you are in fashion all over the land,
And I am so much fallen into disgrace.


Do but see what a pretty contemplative air
I give to the companypray do but note em
You would think that the wise men of Greece were all there,
Or at least would suppose them the wise men of Gotham.


My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses,
While you are a nuisance whereer you appear;
There is nothing but snivelling and blowing of noses,
Such a noise as turns any mans stomach to hear.


Then, lifting his lid in a delicate way,
And opening his mouth with a smile quite engaging,
The box in reply was heard plainly to say,
What a silly dispute is this we are waging!


If you have a little of merit to claim,
You may thank the sweet-smelling Virginian weed,
And I, if I seem to deserve any blame,
The before-mentiond drug in apology plead.


Thus neither the praise nor the blame is our own,
No room for a sneer, much less a cachinnus,
We are vehicles, not of tobacco alone,
But of anything else they may choose to put in us.

William Cowper

William Cowper was an English poet and hymnodist known for his contributions to English literature and the Evangelical revival of the 18th century. He suffered from periods of severe depression and mental illness, which influenced much of his work. Despite his struggles, Cowper produced notable works including 'Olney Hymns' in collaboration with John Newton and 'The Task,' which gained considerable popularity. His poetry is often characterized by its introspective, religious, and sometimes melancholic themes.

William Cowper

On A Similar Occasion. For The Year 1788.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Epitaph On Mr. Chester, Of Chicheley.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

The Modern Patriot.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Boadicea. An Ode.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

English

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Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

To The Rev. William Bull.

June 22, 1782.


My dear Friend,
If reading verse be your delight,
Tis mine as much, or more, to write;
But what we would, so weak is man,
Lies oft remote from what we can.
For instance, at this very time
I feel a wish by cheerful rhyme
To soothe my friend, and, had I power,
To cheat him of an anxious hour;
Not meaning (for I must confess,
It were but folly to suppress)
His pleasure, or his good alone,
But squinting partly at my own.
But though the sun is flaming high
In the centre of yon arch, the sky,
And he had once (and who but he?)
The name for setting genius free,
Yet whether poets of past days
Yielded him undeserved praise.
And he by no uncommon lot
Was famed for virtues he had not;
Or whether, which is like enou...

William Cowper

An Epistle To Robert Lloyd, Esq.

Tis not that I design to rob
Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob,
For thou art born sole heir, and single,
Of dear Mat Priors easy jingle;
Not that I mean, while thus I knit
My threadbare sentiments together,
To show my genius or my wit,
When God and you know I have neither;
Or such as might be better shown
By letting poetry alone.
Tis not with either of these views
That I presumed to address the muse:
But to divert a fierce banditti
(Sworn foes to every thing thats witty!)
That, with a black, infernal train,
Make cruel inroads in my brain,
And daily threaten to drive thence
My little garrison of sense;
The fierce banditti which I mean
Are gloomy thoughts led on by spleen.
Then theres another reason yet,
Which is, that I may fairly...

William Cowper

To Mrs. Newton.

A noble theme demands a noble verse,
In such I thank you for your fine oysters.
The barrel was magnificently large,
But, being sent to Olney at free charge,
Was not inserted in the drivers list,
And therefore overlookd, forgot, or missd;
For, when the messenger whom we despatchd
Inquired for oysters, Hob his noddle scratchd;
Denying that his waggon or his wain
Did any such commodity contain.
In consequence of which, your welcome boon
Did not arrive till yesterday at noon;
In consequence of which some chanced to die,
And some, though very sweet, were very dry.
Now Madam says (and what she says must still
Deserve attention, say she what she will),
That what we call the diligence, be-case
It goes to London with a swifter pace,
Would better suit the...

William Cowper

Lines Addressed To Miss Theodora Jane Cowper.

William was once a bashful youth,
His modesty was such,
That one might say, to say the truth,
He rather had too much.


Some said that it was want of sense,
And others, want of spirit
(So blest a thing is impudence),
While others could not bear it.


But some a different notion had,
And, at each other winking,
Observed that though he little said,
He paid it off with thinking.


Howeer, it happend, by degrees,
He mended, and grew perter,
In company was more at ease,
And dressd a little smarter;


Nay, now and then, could look quite gay,
As other people do;
And sometimes said, or tried to say,
A witty thing or so.


He eyed the women, and made free
To comment on their shapes,
So t...

William Cowper

To The Rev. W. Cawthorne Unwin.

Unwin, I should but ill repay
The kindness of a friend,
Whose worth deserves as warm a lay
As ever friendship pennd,
Thy name omitted in a page
That would reclaim a vicious age.


A union formd, as mine with thee,
Not rashly, or in sport,
May be as fervent in degree
And faithful in its sort,
And may as rich in comfort prove,
As that of true fraternal love.


The bud inserted in the rind,
The bud of peach or rose,
Adorns, though differing in its kind,
The stock whereon it grows,
With flower as sweet, or fruit as fair,
As if produced by nature there.


Not rich, I render what I may,
I seize thy name in haste,
And place it in this first essay,
Lest this should prove the last.
Tis where it should bein...

William Cowper

Gratitude. Addressed To Lady Hesketh.

This cap, that so stately appears,
With ribbon-bound tassel on high,
Which seems by the crest that it rears
Ambitious of brushing the sky:
This cap to my cousin I owe,
She gave it, and gave me beside,
Wreathd into an elegant bow,
The ribbon with which it is tied.


This wheel-footed studying chair,
Contrived both for toil and repose,
Wide-elbowd, and wadded with hair,
In which I both scribble and dose,
Bright-studded to dazzle the eyes,
And rival in lustre of that
In which, or astronomy lies,
Fair Cassiopeia sat:


These carpets so soft to the foot,
Caledonias traffic and pride!
Oh spare them, ye knights of the boot,
Escaped from a cross-country ride!
This table, and mirror within,
Secure from collision and dust,...

William Cowper