Was andere dazu sagen - Rezension schreiben
Es wurden keine Rezensionen gefunden.
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
amid beam beauty beneath blooming breast breath breeze bright circling clouds comes dark death deep delight descends earth ether fair fall fancy fate fear feels fields flame flocks flood forest gentle give gloom grace green grove hand happy head heard heart heaven Hence hills human kind land light lively look lost mind mingled morn mountains Muse nature night o'er o’er once passions peace plain pride pure race rage rise river rocks roll round rural scarce scene season shade shining shoot sits smile snow soft song soul sounding spirit spreads spring storm stream sweet swell tempest tender thee Thomson thou thought thousand thro till toil train turn vale various virtue voice walk waste wave whole wide wild winds wing Winter wonders woods youth
Seite 231 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Seite 234 - As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. Great source of day! best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On Nature write with every beam His praise.
Seite 198 - Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Seite 185 - SEE, Winter comes to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train : Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme, These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms ! Congenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot...
Seite 233 - Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints. Ye forests, bend, ye harvests, wave to Him ; Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart, As home he goes beneath the joyous Moon. Ye that keep watch in heaven, as Earth asleep Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, ' Ye constellations, while your angels strike, Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre.
Seite 234 - While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn, Bleat out afresh, ye hills ; ye mossy rocks, Retain the sound ; the broad responsive low, Ye valleys, raise ; for the Great Shepherd reigns, And his unsuffering kingdom yet will come. Ye woodlands all, awake; a boundless song Burst from the groves ! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Seite 232 - Mysterious round ! what skill, what force divine, Deep felt, in these appear ! a simple train, Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art, Such beauty and beneficence combined ; Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade; And all so forming an harmonious whole ; That, as they still succeed, they ravish still.
Seite 5 - Sits on the horizon round a settled gloom : Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed, Oppressing life ; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope and every joy, The wish of nature. Gradual sinks the breeze Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath Is heard to quiver through the closing woods, Or rustling turn the many-twinkling leaves Of aspen tall.
Seite 228 - Summer's ardent strength. Thy sober autumn fading into age, And pale concluding Winter comes at last, And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now are fled Those dreams of greatness ? those unsolid hopes Of happiness ? those longings after fame ? Those restless cares? those busy bustling days? Those gay-spent, festive nights?
Seite 35 - And see where surly Winter passes off, Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts. His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, The shatter'd forest, and the ravag'd vale ; While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost, The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.