Looking Upwards In A Storm.

God of my life, to thee I call,
Afflicted at thy feet I fall;
When the great water-floods prevail,^[1]
Leave not my trembling heart to fail!


Friend of the friendless and the faint!
Where should I lodge my deep complaint?
Where but with thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor!


Did ever mourner plead with thee,
And thou refuse that mourners plea?
Does not the word still fixd remain,
That none shall seek thy face in vain?


That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst thou not hear and answer prayer;
But a prayer-hearing, answering God,
Supports me under every load.


Fair is the lot thats cast for me;
I have an Advocate with thee;
They whom the world caresses most
Have no such privilege to boast.


Poor though I am, despised, forgot,^[2]
Yet God, my God, forgets me not:
And he is safe, and must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.

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 Goldfinch, Starved To Death In His Cage.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

The Narrow Way.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

On the Death of the Vice-Chancellor, A Physician.[1]

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

To Leonora,[1] Singing in Rome.[2]

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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

Mourning And Longing.

The Saviour hides his face!
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renewd supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.


The favourd souls who know
What glories shine in him,
Pant for his presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream!


What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies,
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.


How dull the Sabbath-day,
Without the Sabbaths Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the word!


Of all the truths I hear,
How few delight my taste!
I glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.


Yet let me (as I ought)
Still hope to be supplied;
No pleasure else is worth a thought,
Nor shall I be ...

William Cowper

Peace After A Storm.

When darkness long has veild my mind,
And smiling day once more appears;
Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.


Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,
And blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,
Or harbour one hard thought of thee!


Oh! let me then at length be taught
What I am still so slow to learn;
That God is love, and changes not,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn.


Sweet truth, and easy to repeat!
But, when my faith is sharply tried,
I find myself a learner yet,
Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.


But, O my Lord, one look from thee
Subdues the disobedient will;
Drives doubt and discontent away,
And thy rebellious worm is still.


Thou ...

William Cowper

An Epistle To An Afflicted Protestant Lady In France.

Madam,A strangers purpose in these lays
Is to congratulate, and not to praise.
To give the creature the Creators due
Were sin in me, and an offence to you.
From man to man, or een to woman paid,
Praise is the medium of a knavish trade,
A coin by craft for follys use designd,
Spurious, and only current with the blind.
The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown;
No traveller ever reachd that blest abode,
Who found not thorns and briers in his road.
The world may dance along the flowery plain,
Cheerd as they go by many a sprightly strain,
Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread,
With unshod feet they yet securely tread,
Admonishd, scorn the caution and the friend,
Bent all on pleasure, heedless of its end.

William Cowper

Temptation.

The billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to thee I call, -
My fears are great, my strength is small.


O Lord, the pilots part perform,
And guard and guide me through the storm,
Defend me from each threatening ill,
Control the waves, - say, Peace, be still.


Amidst the roaring of the sea,
My soul still hangs her hope on thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.


Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the worlds deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.


Though tempest-tossd and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back...

William Cowper

Lively Hope And Gracious Fear.

I was a grovelling creature once,
And basely cleaved to earth;
I wanted spirit to renounce
The clod that gave me birth.


But God has breathed upon a worm,
And sent me, from above,
Wings such as clothe an angels form,
The wings of joy and love.


With these to Pisgahs top I fly,
And there delighted stand,
To view beneath a shining sky
The spacious promised land.


The Lord of all the vast domain
Has promised it to me;
The length and breadth of all the plain,
As far as faith can see.


How glorious is my privilege!
To thee for help I call;
I stand upon a mountains edge,
Oh save me, lest I fall!


Though much exalted in the Lord,
My strength is not my own;
Then let me tremble at h...

William Cowper

Grace And Providence.

Almighty King! whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land,
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall break that sighs for more.


Thy providence supplies my food,
And tis thy blessing makes it good;
My soul is nourishd by thy word,
Let soul and body praise the Lord.


My streams of outward comfort came
From him who built this earthly frame;
Whateer I want his bounty gives,
By whom my soul for ever lives.


Either his hand preserves from pain,
Or, if I feel it, heals again;
From Satans malice shields my breast,
Or overrules it for the best.


Forgive the song that falls so low
Beneath the gratitude I owe!
It means thy praise, however poor;
An angels song can do no more.

William Cowper