Maxioms by James Thomson (1)
Think, oh, grateful think!
How good the God of Harvest is to you;
Who pours abundance o'er read more
Think, oh, grateful think!
How good the God of Harvest is to you;
Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields,
While those unhappy partners of you kind
Wide-hover round you, like the fowls of heaven,
And ask their humble dole.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
Amid the roses, fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest; a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
Amid the roses, fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest; a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
The swallow sweeps
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house.
The swallow sweeps
The slimy pool, to build his hanging house.
For nothing human foreign was to him.
For nothing human foreign was to him.
