James Thomson (1) ( 10 of 37 )
Their only labour was to kill the time;
And labour dire it is, and weary woe,
They read more
Their only labour was to kill the time;
And labour dire it is, and weary woe,
They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme,
Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go,
Or saunter forth, with tottering steps and slow.
Soft-buzzing Slander; silly moths that eat
An honest name.
Soft-buzzing Slander; silly moths that eat
An honest name.
Slow let us trace the matchless vale of Thames;
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
read more
Slow let us trace the matchless vale of Thames;
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The read more
So stands the statue that enchants the world,
So bending tries to veil the matchless boast,
The mingled beauties of exulting Greece.
The stately-sailing swan
Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;
And, arching proud his neck, with read more
The stately-sailing swan
Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;
And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle,
Protective of his young.
He saw her charming, but he saw not half
The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd.
He saw her charming, but he saw not half
The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd.
The glad circle round them yield their souls
To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.
The glad circle round them yield their souls
To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall.
Up springs the lark,
Shrill-voiced, and loud, the messenger of morn;
Ere yet the shadows fly, he read more
Up springs the lark,
Shrill-voiced, and loud, the messenger of morn;
Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts
Calls up the tuneful nations.
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe:
With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each read more
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe:
With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each smooth as those that mutually deceive,
And for their falsehood each despising each.
Island of bliss! amid the subject Seas,
That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up,
At once read more
Island of bliss! amid the subject Seas,
That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up,
At once the wonder, terror, and delight
Of distant nations; whose remotest shore
Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm;
Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults
Baffling, like thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave.
