The Works of the English Poets: Thomson

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Page 226 - 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.
Page 191 - 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. Then comes THY glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent.
Page 200 - Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made. Joined to the prattle of the purling rills, Were heard the lowing herds along the vale, And flocks loud-bleating from the distant hills, And vacant shepherds piping in the dale : And now and then sweet Philomel would wail, Or stock-doves...
Page 65 - Rocks rich in gems, and mountains big with mines, That on the high equator ridgy rise...
Page 210 - What elegance and grandeur wide expand, The pride of Turkey and of Persia land ? Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread, And couches stretch'd around in seemly band ; And endless pillows rise to prop the head ; So that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed.
Page 161 - Along the mazy current. Low the woods Bow their hoar head ; and ere the languid sun Faint from the west emits his evening ray, Earth's universal face, deep hid and chill, Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide The works of man.
Page 163 - 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 on his nerves, and call their vigour forth In many a vain attempt.
Page 26 - Oft, as they weeping eye their infant train, Check their own appetites, and give them all. Nor toil alone they...
Page 40 - But happy they, the happiest of their kind, Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind, That binds their peace ; but harmony itself, Attuning all their passions into love ; Where friendship...
Page 222 - Full oft by holy feet our ground was trod, Of clerks good plenty here you mote espy. A little, round, fat, oily man of God, Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry : He had a roguish twinkle in his eye, And shone all glittering with ungodly dew, If a tight damsel chaunc'd to trippen by ; Which when observ'd, he shrunk into his mew, And straight would recollect his piety anew.

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