The complete poetical works of James Thomson

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H. Frowde, Oxford university press, 1908 - 516 Seiten
 

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Seite 280 - 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.
Seite 249 - Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant, barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song, — where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on the Atlantic isles, — '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.
Seite 422 - WHEN Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain: "Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves!
Seite 247 - 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.
Seite 11 - Meantime, refracted from yon eastern cloud, Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow Shoots up immense; and every hue unfolds, In fair proportion, running from the red To where the violet fades into the sky.
Seite 196 - 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...
Seite 225 - In starving solitude; while Luxury, In palaces, lay straining her low thought, To form unreal wants: why heaven-born Truth, And Moderation fair, wore the red marks Of Superstition's scourge : why licens'd Pain, That cruel spoiler, that embosom'd foe, Imbitter'd all our bliss.
Seite 21 - But who can paint Like Nature ? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, And lose them in each other, as appears In every bud that blows...
Seite 248 - The thunder rolls : be hush'd the prostrate world ; While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. Bleat out afresh, ye hills : ye mossy rocks, Retain the sound : the broad responsive low, Ye valleys, raise ; for the Great Shepherd reigns ; And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come.
Seite 228 - SEE, WINTER comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train ; Vapours and Clouds and Storms. Be these my theme, These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms, Congenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot...

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