Not Of Works.

Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway,
Cast your idol works away.
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.


Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim;
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!


Still the boasting heart replies,
What! the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence,
Built on human excellence;
Perish every thing in man,
But the grace that never can.

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

The Sower. - Matthew xiii.3.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Praise For The Fountain Opened. - Zechariah xiii.1.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

On The Death Of Mrs. (Afterwards Lady) Throckmortons Bullfinch.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Lines Composed For A Memorial Of Ashley Cowper, Esq. Immediately After His Death, By His Nephew William Of Weston.

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.

The New Convert.

The new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summers nigh,
Beneath Emmanuels shining face
Lifts up his blooming branch on high.


No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
No conflict yet his faith employs,
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
The strength and peace his soul enjoys.


But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
And comforts sinking day by day:
What seemd his own, a self-fed spring,
Proves but a brook that glides away.


When Gideon armd his numerous host,
The Lord soon made his numbers less;
And said, Lest Israel vainly boast,^[1]
My arm procured me this success.


Thus will he bring our spirits down,
And draw our ebbing comforts low,
That, saved by grace, but not our own,

William Cowper

The Christian.

Honour and happiness unite
To make the Christians name a praise;
How fair the scene, how clear the light,
That fills the remnant of his days!


A kingly character he bears,
No change his priestly office knows;
Unfading is the crown he wears,
His joys can never reach a close.


Adornd with glory from on high,
Salvation shines upon his face;
His robe is of the ethereal dye,
His steps are dignity and grace.


Inferior honours he disdains,
Nor stoops to take applause from earth:
The King of kings himself maintains
The expenses of his heavenly birth.


The noblest creature seen below,
Ordaind to fill a throne above;
God gives him all he can bestow,
His kingdom of eternal love.


My soul is rav...

William Cowper

A Living And A Dead Faith.

The Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judges ear.


To walk as children of the day,
To mark the precepts holy light,
To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
Show who are pleasing in his sight.


Not words alone it cost the Lord,
To purchase pardon for his own;
Nor will a soul, by grace restored,
Return the Saviour words alone.


With golden bells, the priestly vest,
And rich pomegranates borderd round,^[1]
The need of holiness expressd,
And calld for fruit, as well as sound.


Easy, indeed, it were to reach
A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve, instead of faith...

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 Ode, On Reading Richardsons History Of Sir Charles Grandison.

Say, ye apostate and profane,
Wretches, who blush not to disdain
Allegiance to your God,
Did eer your idly wasted love
Of virtue for her sake remove
And lift you from the crowd?


Would you the race of glory run ,
Know, the devout, and they alone,
Are equal to the task:
The labours of the illustrious course
Far other than the unaided force
Of human vigour ask.


To arm against reputed ill
The patient heart too brave to feel
The tortures of despair:
Nor safer yet high-crested pride,
When wealth flows in with every tide
To gain admittance there.


To rescue from the tyrants sword
The oppressd; unseen and unimplored,
To cheer the face of woe;
From lawless insult to defend
An orphans righta fallen f...

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