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" 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. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn... "
Scotia's Bards: The Choice Productions of the Scottish Poets, with Brief ... - Página 8
por Scotland. [Appendix. - Miscellaneous.] - 1856 - 563 páginas
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Herrn B.H. Brockes aus dem Englischen übersetzte Jahres-zeiten des herrn Thomson

James Thomson, Barthold Heinrich Brockes - 1745 - 586 páginas
...Chaunt, The prompting Seraph, and the Poet's Lyre, Still fing the GOD OF SEASONS, as they roll. 100 For me, when I forget the darling Theme, Whether the BLOSSOM BLOWS, the SUMMER-RAY, Ruflits the Plain, delicious Аитим-N gleams; Or WINTER. rifes in the reddening Ealt;...
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The seraph, a collection of divine hymns and poems from the best authors

Seraph - 1754 - 294 páginas
...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 ..., Volumen1

James Thomson - 1757 - 244 páginas
...fummer-ray 95 Ruflets 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 ..., Volumen1

James Thomson - 1763 - 458 páginas
...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 - 266 páginas
...Ruflets the plain, infpirmg 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 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 Seasons: By James Thomson

James Thomson - 1769 - 218 páginas
...tummer - ray 9? Ruflets the plain, infpiring Autumn gleams; Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft; Re my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more, And , dead...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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The Lady's Magazine: Or Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex ..., Volumen38

John Huddlestone Wynne - 1807 - 744 páginas
...myself, and wish the generous reader to adopt, the charming language of the poet of the Seasons : • For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blossom blows; theSummer ray Russet the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams, Or winter rises in the black'ningEast, Be...
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The Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Volumen1

James Thomson - 1774 - 272 páginas
...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 ..., Volumen48,Página 1

Samuel Johnson - 1779 - 280 páginas
...the plain, infyiring 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 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 - 1779 - 274 páginas
...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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