 | James Thomson, Barthold Heinrich Brockes - 1745 - 586 страница
...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;... | |
 | Seraph - 1754 - 294 страница
...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... | |
 | James Thomson - 1757 - 244 страница
...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... | |
 | James Thomson - 1763 - 458 страница
...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... | |
 | James Thomson - 1766 - 266 страница
...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... | |
 | John Huddlestone Wynne - 1807 - 744 страница
...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... | |
 | James Thomson - 1774 - 272 страница
...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... | |
 | Samuel Johnson - 1779 - 280 страница
...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... | |
 | Samuel Johnson - 1779 - 274 страница
...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,... | |
 | 1780 - 226 страница
...the fummer rny Ruffets the plain, infpiring 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 heat! Should Fate command me to the farthcft verge Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes,... | |
| |
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. 
