The Poetical Works of James Thomson: With Life, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes (Google eBook)

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Cassell, Petter, & Galpin, 1868 - Poets, English - 372 pages
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Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 55 - Dash'd in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft A hoary mist, and forms a ceaseless shower. Nor can the...
Page 166 - 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.
Page 164 - Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength. Thy sober autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at last, And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid hopes Of happiness ? those longings after fame ? Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering thoughts Lost between good and ill, that shared thy life?
Page 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.
Page 14 - Of pendent trees the monarch of the brook, Behoves you then to ply your finest art. Long time he, following cautious, scans the fly, And oft attempts to seize it, but as oft The dimpled water speaks his jealous fear. At last, while haply o'er the shaded sun Passes a cloud, he desperate takes the death With sullen plunge. At once he darts along, Deep-struck, and runs out all the lengthened line ; Then seeks the farthest ooze, the sheltering weed, The caverned bank, his old secure abode; And flies...
Page 165 - With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year : And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks : And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves, in hollow-whispering gales.
Page 168 - 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...

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