James Thomson (1) ( 10 of 37 )
Cruel as death, and hungry at the grave.
Cruel as death, and hungry at the grave.
Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.
Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.
For nothing human foreign was to him.
For nothing human foreign was to him.
Among the changing months, May stands confest
The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed.
Among the changing months, May stands confest
The sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed.
Amid the roses, fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest; a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
Amid the roses, fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest; a quick-returning pang
Shoots through the conscious heart.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The Tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
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At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven,
The Tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The Lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The Noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze.
Follows the loosen'd aggravated Roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal,
Crush'd, horrible, convulsing Heaven and Earth.
Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,
When drooping health and spirits go amiss?
How tasteless read more
Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,
When drooping health and spirits go amiss?
How tasteless then whatever can be given!
Health is the vital principle of bliss,
And exercise of health.
But through the heart
Should Jealousy its venom once diffuse,
'Tis then delightful misery no more,
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But through the heart
Should Jealousy its venom once diffuse,
'Tis then delightful misery no more,
But agony unmix'd, incessant gall,
Corroding every thought, and blasting all
Love's paradise.
O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And read more
O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And heightens ease with grace.
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.
