Once in a Saintly Passion
Once in a saintly passion
I cried with desperate grief,
"O Lord, my heart is black with guile,
Of sinners I am chief."
Then stooped my guardian angel
And whispered from behind,
"Vanity, my little man,
You're nothing of the kind."
poem by James Thomson
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Stanzas Written By Thomson On The Blank Leaf Of A Copy Of His 'Seasons' Sent By Him To Mr. Lyttleton, Soon After The Death Of His Wife
Go, little book, and find our Friend,
Who Nature and the Muses loves,
Who cares the public virtues blend
With all the softness of the groves.
A fitter time thou canst not choose,
His fostering friendship to repay;
Go then, and try, my rural muse,
To steal his widowed hours away.
poem by James Thomson
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To The Same (Amanda) With A Copy Of The 'Seasons
Accept, loved Nymph, this tribute due
To tender friendship, love, and you:
But with it take what breathed the whole.
O take to thine the poet's soul.
If Fancy here her power displays,
And if a heart exalts these lays-
You, fairest, in that fancy shine,
And all that heart is fondly thine.
poem by James Thomson
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On Mrs Mendez' Birthday, Who Was Born On Valentine's Day
Thine is the gentle day of love,
When youths and virgins try their fate;
When, deep retiring to the grove,
Each feathered songster weds his mate.
With tempered beams the skies are bright,
Earth decks in smiles her pleasing face;
Such is the day that gave thee light,
And speaks as such thy every grace.
poem by James Thomson
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The Vine
THE wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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Day
Waking one morning
In a pleasant land,
By a river flowing
Over golden sand:--
Whence flow ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We come flowing
From the Silent Land.
Whither go ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We go flowing
To the Silent Land.
And what is this fair realm?
A grain of golden sand
In the great darkness
Of the Silent Land.
poem by James Thomson
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Song
When blooming spring
Arrays the laughing fields in green,
Then flowers in open air are seen,
And warbling birds are heard to sing,
Almighty love
Doth sweetly move
All nature through;
Then tell me, Chloe, why are you
Averse thereto;
When blooming charms
Invite your lover's circling arms?
O be no longer coy
..................... to love and share of joy.
poem by James Thomson
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The Morning Lark
Feather'd lyric, warbling high,
Sweetly gaining on the sky,
Op'ning with thy matin lay
(Nature's hymn) the eye of day,
Teach my soul, on early wing,
Thus to soar and thus to sing.
While the bloom of orient light
Gilds thee in thy tuneful flight,
May the Day-spring from on high,
Seen by faith's religious eye,
Cheer me with His vital ray,
Promise of eternal day.
poem by James Thomson
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Sunday up the River
MY love o'er the water bends dreaming;
It glideth and glideth away:
She sees there her own beauty, gleaming
Through shadow and ripple and spray.
O tell her, thou murmuring river,
As past her your light wavelets roll,
How steadfast that image for ever
Shines pure in pure depths of my soul.
poem by James Thomson
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Songs In The Masque Of Alfred: To Alfred
First Spirit.
Hear, Alfred, father of the state,
Thy genius Heaven's high will declare!
What proves the hero truly great,
Is never, never to despair:
Is never to despair.
Second Spirit.
Thy hope awake, thy heart expand,
With all its vigour, all its fires.
Arise! and save a sinking land!
Thy country calls, and heaven inspires.
Both Spirits.
Earth calls, and Heaven inspires.
poem by James Thomson
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