Ode To Peace.

Come, peace of mind, delightful guest!
Return, and make thy downy nest
Once more in this sad heart:
Nor riches I nor power pursue,
Nor hold forbidden joys in view;
We therefore need not part.


Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
From avarice and ambition free,
And pleasures fatal wiles?
For whom, alas! dost thou prepare
The sweets that I was wont to share,
The banquet of thy smiles?


The great, the gay, shall they partake
The heaven that thou alone canst make?
And wilt thou quit the stream
That murmurs through the dewy mead,
The grove and the sequesterd shed,
To be a guest with them?


For thee I panted, thee I prized,
For thee I gladly sacrificed
Whateer I loved before;
And shall I see thee start away,
And helpless, hopeless, hear thee say
Farewell! we meet no more?

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 The High Price Of Fish.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Addressed To Miss ----, On Reading The Prayer For Indifference, An Ode, By Mrs. Greville.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

My Soul Thirsteth For God.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Prayer For Children.

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.

Verses, Supposed To Be Written By Alexander Selkirk, During His Solitary Abode In The Island Of Juan Fernandez.

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.
O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms
Than reign in this horrible place.


I am out of humanitys reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech,
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.


Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestowd upon man,
O, had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of reli...

William Cowper

On The Receipt Of My Mothers Picture Out Of Norfolk, The Gift Of My Cousin, Ann Bodham.

O that those lips had language! Life has passd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thinethy own sweet smile I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
Voice only fails, else how distinct they say,
Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
The meek intelligence of those dear eyes
(Blest be the art that can immortalize,
The art that baffles Times tyrannic claim
To quench it) here shines on me still the same.
Faithful remembrancer of one so dear,
O welcome guest, though unexpected here:
Who bidst me honour with an artless song,
Affectionate, a mother lost so long.
I will obey, not willingly alone,
But gladly, as the precept were her own:
And, while that face renews my filial grief,
Fancy shall weave a charm for my re...

William Cowper

Song. On Peace.

Written in the summer of 1783, at the request of Lady Austen, who gave the sentiment.


AirMy fond Shepherds of late.


No longer I follow a sound;
No longer a dream I pursue;
O happiness! not to be found,
Unattainable treasure, adieu!


I have sought thee in splendour and dress,
In the regions of pleasure and taste;
I have sought thee, and seemd to possess,
But have proved thee a vision at last.


An humble ambition and hope
The voice of true wisdom inspires;
Tis sufficient, if peace be the scope,
And the summit of all our desires.


Peace may be the lot of the mind
That seeks it in meekness and love;
But rapture and bliss are confined
To the glorified spirits above.

William Cowper

Lines On The Death Of Sir William Russel.

Doomd, as I am, in solitude to waste
The present moments, and regret the past;
Deprived of every joy I valued most,
My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost;
Call not this gloom I wear, this anxious mien,
The dull effect of humour, or of spleen!
Still, still I mourn, with each returning day,
Him^[1] snatchd by fate in early youth away;
And herthro tedious years of doubt and pain,
Fixd in her choice, and faithfulbut in vain!
O prone to pity, generous, and sincere,
Whose eye neer yet refused the wretch a tear;
Whose heart the real claim of friendship knows;
Nor thinks a lovers are but fancied woes;
See meere yet my destined course half done,
Cast forth a wandrer on a world unknown!
See me neglected on the worlds rude coast,
Each dea...

William Cowper

On A Mischievous Bull, Which The Owner Of Him Sold At The Authors Instance.

Gothou art all unfit to share
The pleasures of this place
With such as its old tenants are,
Creatures of gentler race.


The squirrel here his hoard provides,
Aware of wintry storms,
And woodpeckers explore the sides
Of rugged oaks for worms.


The sheep here smooths the knotted thorn
With frictions of her fleece;
And here I wander eve and morn,
Like her, a friend to peace.


Ah!I could pity thee exiled
From this secure retreat
I would not lose it to be styled
The happiest of the great.


But thou canst taste no calm delight;
Thy pleasure is to show
Thy magnanimity in fight,
Thy prowesstherefore, go


I care not whether east or north,
So I no more may find thee;
The angry muse...

William Cowper

Retirement.

Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.


The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow thee.


There, if thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!


There like the nightingale she pours
Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,
Nor thirsts for human praise.


Author and Guardian of my life,
Sweet source of light divine,
And (all harmonious names in one)
My Saviour, thou art mine!


What thanks I owe thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless st...

William Cowper