The Poetical Works of James Thomson, Volumen2

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Little, Brown,., 1854
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Página 262 - 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...
Página 220 - Where o'er the rock the scarcely waving pine Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.
Página 282 - Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven, When drooping health and spirits go amiss ? How tasteless then whatever can be given? Health is the vital principle of bliss, And exercise, of health.
Página 15 - Amid the glad Creation, musing praise, And looking lively gratitude. At last, The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields, And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, In large effusion, o'er the freshened world. The stealing Shower is scarce to patter heard, By such as wander through the forest walks, Beneath the umbrageous multitude of leaves.
Página 221 - The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills ; And let me catch it as I muse along. Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound ; 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.
Página 220 - 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...
Página 221 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams; Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great source of day ! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On nature write with every beam his praise.
Página 218 - Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, And what your bounded view, which only saw A little part, deem'd Evil, is no more ; The storms of Wintry Time will quickly pass, And one unbounded Spring encircle all.
Página 231 - A pleasing land of drowsy -head it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye ; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, For ever flushing round a summer sky...
Página 183 - Along the woods, along the moorish fens, Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm; And up among the loose disjointed cliffs And fractured mountains wild, the brawling brook And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, Resounding long in listening fancy's ear.

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