The Seasons |
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amid Beam Beauty beneath Breast Breath Breeze bright Charm circling Clouds comes Country Croud dark Death deep Delight descends dreadful Earth fair falls Fate Fear feels Fields fierce Flame Flocks Flood Force Form Friends gives Gloom Grace Grove Hand happy Head Heart Heaven Hence Hills Hours human kind Land Light lively Look lost Love Mind mingled Mountains Muse Nature Night o'er once Passions Peace Plain Power Pride pure Race Rage rise River Rocks roll round rural rushing Scene Season Sense Shade shake shining sits smiling Snow soft Song Soul sounding Spirit spread Spring stand Storm Stream sweep swelling Tempest tender thee Thomson thou Thought thousand thro till Toil Train turn Vale various View Virtue Voice Walks wandering Waste Wave whole wide wild Winds Wing Winter Woods World Youth
Popular passages
Page 198 - tis nought to me, Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full ; And where He vital spreads there must be joy.
Page 168 - 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 48 - Falsely luxurious, will not man awake ; And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, To meditation due and sacred song ? For is there aught in sleep "Can charm the wise ? To lie in dead oblivion, losing half The fleeting moments of too short a life ; Total extinction of th' enlighten'd soul ! Or else to feverish vanity alive, Wilderd, and tossing through distemper'd dreams?
Page 198 - Or if you rather choose the rural shade, And find a fane in every sacred grove ; There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay, The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre, Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll.
Page 56 - Let no presuming impious railer tax Creative Wisdom, as if aught was form'd In vain, or not for admirable ends. Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce His works unwise, of which the smallest part Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind? As if upon a...
Page 161 - Nature ! great parent ! whose unceasing hand Rolls round the Seasons of the changeful year ! How mighty, how majestic, are thy works...
Page 196 - 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.
Page 62 - Still let me pierce into the midnight depth Of yonder grove, of wildest largest growth: That, forming high in air a woodland quire, Nods o'er the mount beneath. At every step, Solemn, and slow, the shadows blacker fall, And all is awful listening gloom around. These are the haunts of Meditation, these The scenes where ancient bards th...
Page 113 - Raised the strong crane; choked up the loaded street With foreign plenty; and thy stream, O Thames! Large, gentle, deep, majestic, king of floods ! Chose for his grand resort.
Page 5 - Into the faithful bosom of the ground; The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. ^ Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow ! Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend ! And temper all, thou world-reviving sun, Into the perfect year...