The Poetical Works of James Thomson, Том 2Bell and Daldy, 1866 |
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Сторінка xx
... leave the rest to Providence . There is , I am persuaded , a necessary fixed chain of things , and I hope my fortune , whatever it be , shall be linked to diligence and honesty . If I should not succeed , in your next advise me what I ...
... leave the rest to Providence . There is , I am persuaded , a necessary fixed chain of things , and I hope my fortune , whatever it be , shall be linked to diligence and honesty . If I should not succeed , in your next advise me what I ...
Сторінка xxii
... leave of her : - " When on the margin of the briny flood Chill'd with a sad presaging damp I stood , Took the last look , ne'er to behold her more , And mix'd our murmurs with the wavy rðar , Heard the last words fall from her pious ...
... leave of her : - " When on the margin of the briny flood Chill'd with a sad presaging damp I stood , Took the last look , ne'er to behold her more , And mix'd our murmurs with the wavy rðar , Heard the last words fall from her pious ...
Сторінка xxvii
... leaves rustle under your feet , the sun gives a farewell parting gleam , and the birds ' Stir the faint note , and but attempt to sing . ' Then again , when the heavens wear a more gloomy aspect , the winds whistle , and the waters ...
... leaves rustle under your feet , the sun gives a farewell parting gleam , and the birds ' Stir the faint note , and but attempt to sing . ' Then again , when the heavens wear a more gloomy aspect , the winds whistle , and the waters ...
Сторінка xlix
... leave to subscribe myself , with the sincerest veneration , Sir , your most faithful , humble servant , " JAMES THOMSON . " It is said that he asked Lord Binning's permission to inscribe his " Summer " to him , but that noble- man ...
... leave to subscribe myself , with the sincerest veneration , Sir , your most faithful , humble servant , " JAMES THOMSON . " It is said that he asked Lord Binning's permission to inscribe his " Summer " to him , but that noble- man ...
Сторінка lii
... leave to take the same refusals I made him ill if ever I wrote one for another ; and this very winter Mr. Thomson and Mr. Mallet excuse me , whose tragedies either are to appear this season or the next . " A complete edition of " the ...
... leave to take the same refusals I made him ill if ever I wrote one for another ; and this very winter Mr. Thomson and Mr. Mallet excuse me , whose tragedies either are to appear this season or the next . " A complete edition of " the ...
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AARON HILL Agamemnon amid Autumn beam beauty beneath breast breath breeze Castle of Indolence charm cheerful clouds Coriolanus Dear Sir death deep delight divine earth edition Ednam exalted fancy favour flame flood friendship genius gentle give gloom glowing grace grove happy heart heaven honour hope humble servant JAMES THOMSON Jedburgh kind letter Liberty lively London Lord Lord Lyttelton Lyttelton Mallet mind mingled mountains muse nature Nature's night o'er passions peace pleasing pleasure poem poet poetical poetry pride Prince of Wales rage rapture rise round rural scene Scotland Seasons Secretary of Briefs shade shining Sir Spencer Compton smile soft song Sophonisba soul Southdean spirit Spring storm stream swain sweet swelling taste tempest tender thee Thessaly thou thought Timoleon toil vale verses virtue walk wave wild winds wing Winter wintry wonder woods
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Сторінка 184 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Сторінка 187 - Or if you rather choose the rural shade, And find a fane in every sacred grove ; 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.
Сторінка 187 - tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full; And where He vital breathes there must be joy.
Сторінка 157 - Half afraid, he first Against the window beats ; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth ; then, hopping o'er the floor, Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is : Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs Attract his slender feet.
Сторінка 185 - But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty Hand, That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres, Works in the secret deep, shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring...
Сторінка 186 - Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds, sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Сторінка 22 - Every copse Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads Of the coy quiristers that lodge within, Are prodigal of harmony.
Сторінка 185 - Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth; And as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life.
Сторінка 39 - 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 th' enlivening spirit and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Сторінка 158 - As thus the snows arise, and foul and fierce All winter drives along the darkened air, In his own loose-revolving fields the swain Disastered 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...