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" Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll. For me — when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring autumn gleams, Or winter rises in the blackening east, Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no... "
The seasons & Castle of indolence, by Thomson. The farmer's boy, Rural tales ... - Page 152
by James Thomson, Robert Bloomfield - 1842
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Herrn B.H. Brockes aus dem Englischen übersetzte Jahres-zeiten des herrn Thomson

James Thomson, Barthold Heinrich Brockes - English poetry - 1745 - 543 pages
...¿u preifen/ werbe/ íatuí unb tvitt »er# Be my Tongue mute, may Fancy paint no more, 105 And, deed to Joy, forget my Heart to beat. SHOULD Fate command me to the fartheft Verge Of the green Earth, to hoftile barbarous Climes, Rivers unknown to Song; where firft...
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The seraph, a collection of divine hymns and poems from the best authors

Seraph - Hymns, English - 1754 - 265 pages
...delicious autumn gleams, Or winter riles in the reddening eaft ; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint wo more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat. Should fate command me to the fartheft verge Of the green earth, to hollile barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to fong ; where firft...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections, Additions ..., Volume 1

James Thomson - 1757
...the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams ; Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft ; Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! SHOULD SHOULD fate command me to the fartheft verge Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes, 101 Kivus...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and Improvements. To ...

James Thomson - 1763
...Autumn gleams-; Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft; Be my tongue mate, may fancy paint no more, Andi dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the fartheft verge 100 Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous -climes, Rivers unknown to Song; where...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and Improvements. ...

James Thomson - 1766
...the fummer-ray 95 Ruflets the plain, infpirmg Autumn gleams ; Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead...my heart to beat! • SHOULD fate command me to the fartheft verge i oo Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to fong; where...
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The Lady's Magazine: Or Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex ..., Volume 38

Great Britain - 1807
...Russet the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or winter rises in the black'ningEast, Be my tongue mute, may Fancy paint no more, And dead to joy forget my heart to beat.' The morn was very clear and fine; and ere I had rambled far entered a little coppice, and taking wy...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and Improvements : to ...

James Thomson - 1774
...fummer-ray 95 RufTets the plain, infpiring Autumn gleams; Or Winter rifes_ in the black'ning eaft ; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Gilds Indian mountains, or Ms fetting beam Flames on th' Atlantic ifles ; 'tis nought to me : Since...
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The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces ..., Volume 48, Page 1

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1779
...fumvner-ray 95 Rufiets the plain, infyiring Autumn gleams ; Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft ; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead...forget my heart to beat. Should fate command me to the fartl:eft verge 100 Of the green earth, to diflant ba:barous climes, Rivers unknown to fong; where...
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The Works of the English Poets: Thomson

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1779
...lummer-ray 95 Ruflets the plain, infririxg Autumn gleams ; Or Winter rifes in,the blackening eaft; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to biat. Should fate command me to the fartbeft verge ice Of the green earth, to eliftant baibarous climes,...
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The Works of the English Poets: With Prefaces, Biographical ..., Volumes 48-49

Samuel Johnson - English poetry - 1779
...gleams; Or Winter rifes in the Slackening eaft ; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead fo joy, forget my heart to beat. Should fate command me to the fartheft verge 100 Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to fong ;, where...
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