William Cowper Poems

The suitors sinned, but with a fair excuse,
Whom all this elegance might well seduce;
Nor can our censure on the husband fall,
...

Forc'd from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn;
To increase a stranger's treasures,
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Thrive, gentle plant! and weave a bower
For Mary and for me,
And deck with many a splendid flower
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Hair, wax, rouge, honey, teeth you buy,
A multifarious store!
A mask at once would all supply
Nor would it cost you more.
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Almighty King! whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land;
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
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'Write to Sardis,' saith the Lord,
'And write what He declares,
He whose Spirit, and whose word,
Upholds the seven stars:
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Boy! I detest all Persian fopperies,
Fillet-bound garlands are to me disgusting;
Task not thyself with any search, I charge thee,
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Sweet tenants of this grove!
Who sing without design,
A song of artless love,
In unison with mine:
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Night! how I love thy silent shades,
My spirits they compose;
The bliss of heaven my soul pervades,
In spite of all my woes.
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Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace
In this licentious day,
And while they boast they see Thy face,
They turn their own away.
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