Mary And John.

If John marries Mary, and Mary alone,
Tis a very good match between Mary and John.
Should John wed a score, oh, the claws and the scratches!
It cant be a matchtis a bundle of matches.

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

Jehovah-Jireh. The Lord Will Provide. - Genesis xxii.14.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Welcome Cross.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

That Nature Is Not Subject To Decay.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Epitaph On A Free But Tame Redbreast, A Favourite Of Miss Sally Hurdis.

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 Mary (Mrs. Unwin).

The twentieth year is well nigh past
Since first our sky was overcast;
Ah! would that this might be the last!
My Mary!


Thy spirits have a fainter flow
I see thee daily weaker grow
Twas my distress that brought thee low,
My Mary!


Thy needles, once a shining store,
For my sake restless heretofore,
Now rust disused, and shine no more;
My Mary!


For, though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
The same kind office for me still,
Thy sight now seconds not thy will,
My Mary!


But well thou playdst the housewifes part,
And all thy threads with magic art
Have wound themselves about this heart,
My Mary!


Thy indistinct expressions seem
Like language utterd in a dream:
Yet me they charm, wha...

William Cowper

To Mary.

The twentieth year is well-nigh past
Since first our sky was overcast,
Ah, would that this might be the last!
My Mary!

Thy spirits have a fainter flow,
I see thee daily weaker grow--
'Twas my distress that brought thee low,
My Mary!

Thy needles, once a shining store,
For my sake restless heretofore,
Now rust disused, and shine no more,
My Mary!

For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
The same kind office for me still,
Thy sight now seconds not thy will,
My Mary!

But well thou playedst the housewife's part,
And all thy threads with magic art
Have wound themselves about this heart,
My Mary!

Thy indistinct expressions seem
Like language uttered in a dream;
Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme,
My Mar...

William Cowper

John And Jane.

Said Jane to John, "Come, let us wed,
For know, dear John, I love you,
And, by the bright stars overhead,
There's none I place above you."

"I doubt it not," said John, "and I
Reciprocate the feeling,
And here, with one despairing cry,
I kneel, and love you, kneeling."

"Then why, dear John, do you despair,
If you do love so madly?"
"Because," said John, "my pocket there
Is slim, and furnish'd badly."

"Oh, that is naught," said Jane, with glee,
"I'd marry you to-morrow,
And live on bread, and water free,
Without one grain of sorrow."

"All right," said John, "I'm with you there,
Old Logan's charming daughter,
You'll get the bread, the work to share,
And I will get the water."

Thomas Frederick Young

To Mrs. Unwin.

Mary! I want a lyre with other strings,
Such aid from heaven as some have feignd they drew,
An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new
And undebased by praise of meaner things,
That, ere through age or woe I shed my wings,
I may record thy worth with honour due,
In verse as musical as thou art true,
And that immortalizes whom it sings.
But thou hast little need. There is a book
By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light,
On which the eyes of God not rarely look,
A chronicle of actions just and bright;


There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine,
And, since thou ownst that praise, I spare thee mine.

William Cowper

Mutual Forbearance Necessary To The Happiness Of The Married State.

The lady thus addressd her spouse
What a mere dungeon is this house!
By no means large enough; and was it,
Yet this dull room, and that dark closet,
Those hangings with their worn-out graces,
Long beards, long noses, and pale faces,
Are such an antiquated scene,
They overwhelm me with the spleen.
Sir Humphrey, shooting in the dark,
Makes answer quite beside the mark:
No doubt, my dear, I bade him come,
Engaged myself to be at home,
And shall expect him at the door
Precisely when the clock strikes four.
You are so deaf, the lady cried
(And raised her voice, and frownd beside),
You are so sadly deaf, my dear,
What shall I do to make you hear?
Dismiss poor Harry! he replies;
Some people are more nice than wise:
For one slight trespass all t...

William Cowper

Pairing Time Anticipated. A Fable.

I shall not ask Jean Jaques Rousseau^[1]
If birds confabulate or no;
Tis clear, that they were always able
To hold discourse, at least in fable;
And een the child who knows no better
Than to interpret, by the letter,
A story of a cock and bull,
Must have a most uncommon skull.
It chanced then on a winters day,
But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a design
To forestall sweet St. Valentine,
In many an orchard, copse, and grove,
Assembled on affairs of love,
And with much twitter and much chatter
Began to agitate the matter.
At length a Bullfinch, who could boast
More years and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, opening wide his beak,
A moments liberty to speak;
And, silence publicly enjoind,
Deliverd...

William Cowper