Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.
William CowperGod moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
William CowperFar happier are the dead methinks than they who look for death and fear it every day.
William CowperGod moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
William Cowper