On A Plant Of Virgins Bower. Designed To Cover A Garden-Seat.

Thrive, gentle plant! and weave a bower
For Mary and for me,
And deck with many a splendid flower,
Thy foliage large and free.


Thou camest from Eartham, and wilt shade
(If truly I divine)
Some future day the illustrious head
Of him who made thee mine.


Should Daphne show a jealous frown,
And envy seize the bay,
Affirming none so fit to crown
Such honourd brows as they,


Thy cause with zeal we shall defend,
And with convincing power;
For why should not the virgins friend
Be crownd with virgins bower?

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

Wisdom. - Proverbs viii.22-31.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

On The Author Of Letters On Literature.[1]

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Mutual Forbearance Necessary To The Happiness Of The Married State.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

To The Rev. Mr. Newton, On His Return From Ramsgate.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

English

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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

Ode 8

Singe wee the Rose
Then which no flower there growes
    Is sweeter:
And aptly her compare
With what in that is rare
    A parallel none meeter.

Or made poses,
Of this that incloses
    Suche blisses,
That naturally flusheth
As she blusheth
    When she is robd of kisses.

Or if strew'd
When with the morning dew'd
    Or stilling,
Or howe to sense expos'd
All which in her inclos'd,
    Ech place with sweetnes filling.

That most renown'd
By Nature richly crownd
    With yellow,
Of that delitious layre
And as pure, her hayre
    Vnto the same the fellowe,

Fearing of harme
Nature that flower doth arme
    From danger,
The touch giues her offence
But with reuerence
    Vnto her...

Michael Drayton

The Lily And The Rose.

The nymph must lose her female friend,
If more admired than she
But where will fierce contention end,
If flowers can disagree?


Within the gardens peaceful scene
Appeard two lovely foes,
Aspiring to the rank of queen,
The Lily and the Rose.


The Rose soon reddend into rage,
And, swelling with disdain,
Appeald to many a poets page
To prove her right to reign.


The Lilys height bespoke command,
A fair imperial flower;
She seemd designd for Floras hand,
The sceptre of her power.


This civil bickering and debate
The goddess chanced to hear,
And flew to save, ere yet too late,
The pride of the parterre.


Yours is, she said, the nobler hue,
And yours the statelier mien;
An...

William Cowper

The Virgin

Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied.
Woman! above all women glorified,
Our tainted natures solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on heavens blue coast;
Thy image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in thee
Of mothers love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!

William Wordsworth

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

The Winter Nosegay.

What Nature, alas! has denied
To the delicate growth of our isle,
Art has in a measure supplied,
And winter is deckd with a smile.
See, Mary, what beauties I bring
From the shelter of that sunny shed,
Where the flowers have the charms of the spring,
Though abroad they are frozen and dead.


Tis a bower of Arcadian sweets,
Where Flora is still in her prime,
A fortress to which she retreats
From the cruel assaults of the clime.
While earth wears a mantle of snow,
These pinks are as fresh and as gay
As the fairest and sweetest that blow
On the beautiful bosom of May.


See how they have safely survived
The frowns of a sky so severe;
Such Marys true love, that has lived
Through many a turbulent year.
The charms of the lat...

William Cowper

On A Plant Of Virgins Bower. Designed To Cover A Garden-Seat.

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On A Plant Of Virgins Bower. Designed To Cover A Garden-Seat.