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James Thomson (poet) quotes - page 2
See, Winter comes to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad.
James Thomson (poet)
Welcome, kindred glooms! Congenial horrors, hail!
James Thomson (poet)
Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.
James Thomson (poet)
There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead.
James Thomson (poet)
The meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dews.
James Thomson (poet)
Falsely luxurious, will not man awake?
James Thomson (poet)
But yonder comes the powerful king of day, Rejoicing in the east.
James Thomson (poet)
Ships dim-discovered dropping from the clouds.
James Thomson (poet)
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.
James Thomson (poet)
A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate Of mighty monarchs.
James Thomson (poet)
So stands the statue that enchants the world, So bending tries to veil the matchless boast, The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
James Thomson (poet)
Tutor'd by thee, hence Poetry exalts Her voice to ages; and informs the page With music, image, sentiment, and thought, Never to die! the treasure of mankind! Their highest honour, and their truest joy!
James Thomson (poet)
Come, gentle Spring! ethereal mildness, come.
James Thomson (poet)
The negligence of Nature wide and wild, Where, undisguised by mimic art, she spreads Unbounded beauty to the roving eye.
James Thomson (poet)
Base Envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
James Thomson (poet)
Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears Her snaky crest.
James Thomson (poet)
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot.
James Thomson (poet)
An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!
James Thomson (poet)
For loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is when unadorned adorned the most.
James Thomson (poet)
He saw her charming, but he saw not half The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd.
James Thomson (poet)
They who are pleased themselves must always please.
James Thomson (poet)
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained The deep vibrations of his witching song.
James Thomson (poet)
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