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Books Books 1 - 10 of 142 on tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the....
" 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. "
The Annual biography and obituary - Page 222
1818
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The Seasons: By James Thomson; with His Life, an Index, and Glossary ...

James Thomson - 1793 - 225 pages
...theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray 95 SHOULD fate command me to the farthest verge i oo Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Rivers...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since GOD is ever present, ever felt, 105 In the void waste...
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The Seasons: By James Thomson

James Thomson - 1800 - 288 pages
...blackening east ; Be my tongue mute , my fancy paint no more , And, dead to joy , forget my heart to heat ! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth , to distant barbarous climes , Hirers unknown to song ; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on...
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The Beauties of the Poets:: Being a Collection of Moral and Sacred Poetry ...

Thomas Janes - English poetry - 1800 - 304 pages
...black'ning east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, fos-get my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes, Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun GilJs Indian mountains, or his setting...
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The works of mr. James Thomson, to which is prefixed the life of the author ...

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1802
...blackening east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in...
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The Works of Mr. James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Volume 1

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1802
...blackening east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in...
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The Seasons...

James Thomson, gen - History - 2012 - 166 pages
...black'ning east; Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes, Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting...
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The seasons. To which is prefixed the life of the author

James Thomson - 1803 - 168 pages
...hlackening east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And dead to joy, forget my heart to heat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant harharous climes. Rivers unknown to song ; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting...
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The seasons; with the life of the author. To which are added Hesiod, or the ...

James Thomson - 1803
...Rivers unknown to song i where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting bearn Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me : Since GOD is ever present , ever fejt , .-..-, In the void waste as in /ih? city flriVi x -,,.. . -V And where UR vital breathes , tlicrc...
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The Poetical Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections ..., Volume 1

James Thomson, John Aikin - 1804
...more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! Should Fate command me to the farthest verge 100 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes. Rivers...nought to me } Since God is ever present, ever felt, 105 And where he vital breathes there must be joy. When e'en at last the solemn hour shall come, And...
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Poems on Various Subjects: Selected to Enforce the Practice of Virtue, and ...

E. Tomkins - Didactic poetry, English - 1804 - 256 pages
...hlackening East, Be my tongue mute, my Fancy paint no more. And, dead to joy, forget my heart to heat ! Should Fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant harharous climes, Rivers unknown to song, where first the suu Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting...
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