James Thomson (1)

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.

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.

Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.

Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.

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.

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.