MY SOUL THIRSTETH FOR GOD

I thirst but not as once I did,

The vain delights of earth to share ;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.

It was the sight of Thy dear cross

First weaned my soul from earthly things
And taught me to esteem as dross

The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.

I want that grace that springs from Thee,
That quickens all things when it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle and the rose.

Dear fountain of delight unknown,
No longer sink below the brim ;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream.

For sure of all the plants that share
The notice of my Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to his care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.

And who does not feel the pathetic intensity of this?

THE CONTRITE HEART

The Lord will happiness divine

On contrite hearts bestow;

Then tell me, gracious God, is mine

A contrite heart or no?

I hear, but seem to hear in vain,
Insensible as steel:

If aught is felt, 'tis only pain
To find I cannot feel.

I sometimes think myself inclined
To love Thee if I could;

But often feel another mind
Averse to all that's good.

My best desires are faint and few,
I fain would strive for more ;
But when I cry, "My strength renew!"
Seem weaker than before.

Thy saints are comforted I know,
And love Thy house of prayer;
I therefore go when others go,
But find no comfort there.

Oh make this heart rejoice or ache ;
Decide this doubt for me;

And if it be not broken, break,—
And heal it if it be.

The case is different with the volume of "Poems" published in 1782. In this Cowper endeavours didactically to combine with his Calvinist doctrine the vivacious air of familiar conversation which characterises the satire of the earlier part of the century. But his effort is unsuccessful. Neither nature nor art had qualified him for a satirist. His gentle and affectionate heart rendered him incapable of the fierce invective of Juvenal; his shyness and introspective habits, of the worldly wisdom of Horace. In satire, vice and folly must be judged by the universal standard of Reason; but Cowper refers all his judgments to the sectional Calvinist doctrine of Grace. What he calls satires are therefore, in reality, like those of Wither, long, sermon-like soliloquies, which lack the due sense of proportion. For example, in The Progress of Error, the first of the series he undertook at Mrs. Unwin's suggestion, he starts with the undoubtedly just, though not very original, observation, that Man is placed in the world on his trial, and that

Hourly allurements on his passions press,

Safe in themselves but dangerous in the excess.

But having thus stated his theme, the only examples of it that he provides are the hunting parson; the clergyman who indulges himself with music on Sunday evenings; card-playing on Sundays; the drunken Clodio, and Rufillus who "has the Ladies' Etiquette by heart"; the sentimental novelist; Lord Chesterfield; and the typical travelling tutor and pupil. From these he rambles off to the presumption of rationalising critics of Scripture concluding finally :

But Muse, forbear! long flights forbode a fall;
Strike on the deep-toned chord the sum of all.
Hear the just law the judgment of the skies;
He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies;
And he that will be cheated to the last,
Delusions strong as hell shall bind him fast.
But if the wanderer his mistake discern,
Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return,
Bewildered once, must he bewail his loss
For ever and for ever? No the Cross!
There and there only (though the deist rave
And atheist, if earth bear so mean a slave),
There and there only is the power to save;
There no delusive hope invites despair,
No mockery meets you, no deception there :
The spells and charms that blinded you before
All vanish there, and fascinate no more.

This seems to be a somewhat inadequate treatment of so wide a theme as The Progress of Error.

In the same way Expostulation is supposed to be the pleading of the poet with his country to repent of her national sins. The history of Israel is dwelt on at great length for the warning of England. But when the reader expects a satiric answer to the question

What appears

In England's case to move the Muse to tears?

almost the only sins that are enumerated are the national failure to ascribe to Heaven the glory for victory; the fortune-hunting of the East India Company's servants; the abuses of the Test Act; and the worldliness of the clergy, of whom the poet says:

Except a few with Eli's spirit blest,

Hophni and Phineas may describe the rest.

Nor is the spiritual Pharisaism of the satires redeemed by any great excellences of style. The diction, with its over-homely imagery and slang phrases of "smart society," is indeed familiar, but also (what Cowper never is when happily inspired) somewhat vulgar, as in passages like the following:

VOL. V

2 A

or

Hence Liberty, sweet Liberty, inspires,
And keeps alive his fierce but noble fires.
Patient of constitutional control,

He bears it with meek manliness of soul;
But if authority grow wanton, woe

To him that treads upon his free-born toe!

He wore them as fine trappings for a show,
A praying, synagogue-frequenting beau.

The versification is distinguished from prose-writing only by the rhyme. It has neither the masculine force of Dryden nor the epigrammatic terseness of Pope. It aims at the light touch of Young in his Universal Passion, but wants his wit; it succeeds in imitating the fluent periods of Churchill, but not the brutal conclusiveness with which that able literary bravo often brings his paragraphs to a climax. Here is a characteristic example :

Build by whatever plan caprice decrees,

With what materials on what ground you please:
Your hope shall stand unblamed, perhaps admired,
If not that hope the Scripture has required.

The strange conceits, vain projects, and wild dreams,
With which hypocrisy for ever teems,
(Though other follies strike the public eye
And raise a laugh) pass unmolested by:
But if unblamable in word and thought,

A man arise, a man whom God has taught,
With all Elijah's dignity of tone,

And all the love of the beloved John,

To storm the citadels they build in air,

And smite the untempered wall 'tis death to spare;

To sweep away all refuges of lies,

And place, instead of quirks themselves devise,

Lama Sabachthani before their eyes;

To prove that without Christ all gain is loss,

All hope despair that stands not on His cross;
Except the few his God may have impressed,
A tenfold frenzy seizes all the rest.

On the other hand, in The Task, Cowper has lighted on the subject fitted to his genius; he has also invented the form in which it ought to be treated. The supposed theme (which is indeed no theme) becomes in his hands capable of an essentially lyrical form of presentation, and

all the solitary and centrifugal tendencies in the man find a channel of expression in which they can flow without being impeded by the sins of unregenerate society. Calvinism, it is true, still permeates his thought, but this is brought into such complete subjection to the requirements of artistic form as not to clash with the poet's delight in external nature, or with the well-bred gaiety and ease that characterise all his descriptions of himself and his surroundings. He perceived (without perhaps perceiving all the reasons for it) that satire was not his proper instrument :

Since pulpits fail, and sounding-boards reflect
Most part an empty ineffectual sound,
What chance that I, to fame so little known,
Nor conversant with men or manners much,
Should speak to purpose, or with bitter hope
Crack the satiric thong? 'Twere wiser far
For me, enamoured of sequestered scenes,
And charmed with rural beauty, to repose

Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or vine,
My languid limbs when summer sears the plains:
Or, when rough winter rages, on the soft

And sheltered sofa, while the nitrous air

Feeds a blue flame, and makes a cheerful hearth;
There undisturbed by Folly, and apprised
How great the danger of disturbing lies,
To muse in silence, or at least confine
Remarks that gall so many to the few,
My partners in retreat. Disgust concealed
Is ofttimes proof of wisdom, when the fault
Is obstinate, and cure beyond our reach.

By adopting the mock-heroic manner of blank-verse with which he had begun his poetical career in his boyish imitation of The Splendid Shilling, he found employment for his peculiar vein of humour. He could now at choice describe in grandiose language the familiar objects about him; indulge in sentimental reveries inspired by Rousseau ; diverge into passages of autobiography and compliment; or, if he chose, reoccupy the satiric pulpit for which he had so unfortunate a predilection. It will probably be generally felt that the satirical passages of The Task, and especially the invectives against the clergy in The Time