The poetical works of James Thomson. With life, critical diss., and explanatory notes. The text ed. by C.C. Clarke1873 |
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Сторінка xi
... soul , and it overflowed in the mighty , sonorous strains of the first and best of his " Seasons . " The subject was suggested by a poem from the pen of his early patron , Mr Riccaltoun , on Winter , which Thomson had lying beside him ...
... soul , and it overflowed in the mighty , sonorous strains of the first and best of his " Seasons . " The subject was suggested by a poem from the pen of his early patron , Mr Riccaltoun , on Winter , which Thomson had lying beside him ...
Сторінка xiii
... soul of Milton , and which stirred Byron into passionate rapture , threw Thomson into a state of dreamy delight , in which , un- like Lady Macbeth , his eyes were half shut , but their sense was open . He was not one of those travellers ...
... soul of Milton , and which stirred Byron into passionate rapture , threw Thomson into a state of dreamy delight , in which , un- like Lady Macbeth , his eyes were half shut , but their sense was open . He was not one of those travellers ...
Сторінка 9
... soul of happiness ; and all Is off the poise within : the passions all Have burst their bounds ; and Reason , half extinct , Or impotent , or else approving , sees The foul disorder . Senseless and deform'd , Convulsive Anger storms at ...
... soul of happiness ; and all Is off the poise within : the passions all Have burst their bounds ; and Reason , half extinct , Or impotent , or else approving , sees The foul disorder . Senseless and deform'd , Convulsive Anger storms at ...
Сторінка 11
... soul Of nutriment and health , and vital powers , Beyond the search of art , ' tis copious blest . For , with hot ravin fir'd , ensanguin'd Man Is now become the lion of the plain , And worse . The wolf , who from the nightly fold ...
... soul Of nutriment and health , and vital powers , Beyond the search of art , ' tis copious blest . For , with hot ravin fir'd , ensanguin'd Man Is now become the lion of the plain , And worse . The wolf , who from the nightly fold ...
Сторінка 16
... soul . Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot , Full of fresh verdure , and unnumber'd flowers , The negligence of Nature , wide , and wild ; Where , undisguis'd by mimic Art , she spreads Unbounded beauty to the roving eye . Here their ...
... soul . Nor is the mead unworthy of thy foot , Full of fresh verdure , and unnumber'd flowers , The negligence of Nature , wide , and wild ; Where , undisguis'd by mimic Art , she spreads Unbounded beauty to the roving eye . Here their ...
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The Poetical Works of James Thomson. With Life, Critical Diss., and ... James Thomson Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2019 |
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amid Behold beneath breast breath calm clouds dark death deep delight earth fair fall fear feel fields fire flame flood force gale genius give glory grace grove hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hills hope hour human kind land leaves light live lonely look mind morn mountains Muse Nature never night o'er once peace plain poem pride race rage rise rocks roll round scene seen shade shine shore silent sing sits sleep smile soft song sons soon soul sound spirit spread Spring storm strain stream sweet swell tear thee thou thought till toil turn vale virtue voice walk wandering waste wave White whole wide wild winds wing woods youth
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Сторінка 306 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Сторінка 226 - Then shalt thou cause the trumpet of the jubilee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month, in the Day of Atonement shall ye make the trumpet sound throughout all your land.
Сторінка 141 - As thus the snows arise; and foul, and fierce, All Winter drives along the darkened air; In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend, Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain: Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on From hill to dale, still more and more astray; Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home Rush...
Сторінка 35 - Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Сторінка 168 - There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or Winter rises in the blackening east...
Сторінка 227 - And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.
Сторінка 143 - Ah little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Сторінка 167 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, Ye constellations, while your angels strike Amid the spangled sky the silver lyre.
Сторінка 142 - In vain for him th' officious wife prepares The fire fair-blazing and the vestment warm ; In vain his little children, peeping out Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, Nor friends, nor sacred home.
Сторінка 167 - Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound his stupendous praise; whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, In mingled clouds to him whose sun exalts, Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints.