On The Same. (On The Burning Of Lord Mansfields Library, Together With His Mss., By The Mob, In The Month Of June 1780.)

When wit and genius meet their doom
In all-devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.


Oer Murrays loss the muses wept,
They felt the rude alarm,
Yet blessd the guardian care that kept
His sacred head from harm.


There Memory, like the bee thats fed
From Floras balmy store,
The quintessence of all he read
Had treasured up before.


The lawless herd, with fury blind,
Have done him cruel wrong;
The flowers are gonebut still we find
The honey on his tongue.

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

To The Rev. William Bull.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Paradisum Amissam, Lib. II [1]

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

That Nature Is Not Subject To Decay.

William Cowper, Simple Poetry

Verses Printed By Himself, On A Flood At Olney.

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.

On The Burning Of Lord Mansfields Library, Together With His Mss., By The Mob, In The Month Of June 1780.

So thenthe Vandals of our isle,
Sworn foes to sense and law,
Have burnt to dust a nobler pile
Than ever Roman saw!


And Murray sighs oer Pope and Swift,
And many a treasure more,
The well-judged purchase and the gift
That graced his letterd store.


Their pages mangled, burnt, and torn,
The loss was his alone;
But ages yet to come shall mourn
The burning of his own.

William Cowper

On A Similar Occasion. For The Year 1788.

Quod adest, memento
Componere æquus. Cætera fluminis
Ritu feruntur.Horace.


Improve the present hour, for all beside
Is a mere feather on a torrents tide.


Could I, from heaven inspired, as sure presage
To whom the rising year shall prove his last,
As I can number in my punctual page,
And item down the victims of the past;


How each would trembling wait the mournful sheet,
On which the press might stamp him next to die;
And, reading here his sentence, how replete
With anxious meaning, heavenward turn his eye!


Time then would seem more precious than the joys
In which he sports away the treasure now;
And prayer more seasonable than the noise
Of drunkards, or the music-drawing bow.


Then doubtless man...

William Cowper

On The Gunpowder Plot.[1]

Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannos
    Ausus es infandum perfide Fauxe nefas,
Fallor? an & mitis voluisti ex parte videri,
    Et pensare mala cum pietate scelus;
Scilicet hos alti missurus ad atria caeli,
    Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis.
Qualiter ille feris caput inviolabile Parcis
    Liquit Jordanios turbine raptus agros.


                Another on the Same.

Siccine tentasti caelo donasse Jacobum
    Quae septemgemino Bellua monte lates?
Ni meliora tuum poterit dare munera numen,
    Parce precor donis insidiosa tuis.
Ille quidem sine te consortia serus adivit
    Astra, nec inferni pulveris usus ope.
Sic potius foedus in caelum pelle cucullos,
    Et quot habet brutos Roma profana Deos,
Namque hac aut alia qu...

William Cowper

On A Similar Occasion. For The Year 1790.

Ne commonentem recta sperne.Buchanan.


Despise not my good counsel.


He who sits from day to day
Where the prisond lark is hung,
Heedless of his loudest lay,
Hardly knows that he has sung.


Where the watchman in his round
Nightly lifts his voice on high,
None, accustomd to the sound,
Wakes the sooner for his cry.


So your verse-man I, and clerk,
Yearly in my song proclaim
Death at handyourselves his mark
And the foes unerring aim.


Duly at my time I come,
Publishing to all aloud
Soon the grave must be your home,
And your only suit, a shroud.


But the monitory strain,
Oft repeated in your ears,
Seems to sound too much in vain,
Wins no notice, wakes no fears.
<...

William Cowper

On The Author Of Letters On Literature.[1]

The Genius of the Augustan age
His head among Romes ruins reard,
And, bursting with heroic rage,
When literary Heron appeard;


Thou hast, he cried, like him of old
Who set the Ephesian dome on fire,
By being scandalously bold,
Attaind the mark of thy desire.


And for traducing Virgils name
Shalt share his merited reward;
A perpetuity of fame,
That rots, and stinks, and is abhorrd.

William Cowper

On A Similar Occasion. For The Year 1792.

Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
Atque metus omnes et inexorabile fatum
Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari!Virg.


Happy the mortal who has traced effects
To their first cause, cast fear beneath his feet
And death and roaring hells voracious fires!


Thankless for favours from on high,
Man thinks he fades too soon;
Though tis his privilege to die,
Would he improve the boon.


But he, not wise enough to scan
His blest concerns aright,
Would gladly stretch lifes little span
To ages, if he might.


To ages in a world of pain,
To ages, where he goes
Galld by afflictions heavy chain,
And hopeless of repose.


Strange fondness of the human heart,
Enamourd of its harm!

William Cowper

On The Same. (On The Burning Of Lord Mansfields Library, Together With His Mss., By The Mob, In The Month Of June 1780.)

Suggested Poems

On The Same. (On The Burning Of Lord Mansfields Library, Together With His Mss., By The Mob, In The Month Of June 1780.)