James Thomson (1) ( 10 of 37 )
Hail! Independence, hail! Heaven's next best gift,
To that of life and an immortal soul!
Hail! Independence, hail! Heaven's next best gift,
To that of life and an immortal soul!
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.
Whoe'er amidst the sons
Of reason, valor, liberty and virtue,
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble
read more
Whoe'er amidst the sons
Of reason, valor, liberty and virtue,
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble
Of Nature's own creating.
The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, read more
The Clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow
In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world.
While I deduce,
From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings,
The symphony of spring.
While I deduce,
From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings,
The symphony of spring.
Her polish'd limbs,
Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire;
Beyond the pomp of dress; for read more
Her polish'd limbs,
Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire;
Beyond the pomp of dress; for Loveliness
Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
But is, when unadorn'd the most.
'Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation.
'Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation.
Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.
Of evening tinct,
The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine.
In ancient times, the sacred Plough employ'd
The Kings and awful Fathers of mankind:
And some, with read more
In ancient times, the sacred Plough employ'd
The Kings and awful Fathers of mankind:
And some, with whom compared your insect-tribes
Are but the beings of a summer's day,
Have held the Scale of Empire, ruled the Storm
Of mighty War; then, with victorious hand,
Disdaining little delicacies, seized
The Plough, and, greatly independent, scorned
All the vile stores corruption can bestow.
Falsely luxurious, will not man awake?
Falsely luxurious, will not man awake?
