James Thomson

(11 September 1700 – 27 August 1748 / Ednam in Roxburghshire, Scotland)

James Thomson Poems

1. Scene Between May And June 4/20/2010
2. Songs In The Masque Of Alfred: To Peace 4/20/2010
3. Songs In The Masque Of Alfred: To Alfred 4/20/2010
4. 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 4/20/2010
5. Summer 4/20/2010
6. Sweet Valley, Say 4/20/2010
7. Prologue To Tancred And Sigismunda 4/20/2010
8. Psalm Civ. Paraphrased 4/20/2010
9. Sheep-Sheering 4/20/2010
10. Prologue To Mallet's Mustapha 4/20/2010
11. The Lover's Fate 4/20/2010
12. The Happy Man 4/20/2010
13. He, When Young Spring Protrudes The Bursting Gems 4/20/2010
14. Reflections Suggested By Winter 4/20/2010
15. From Those Eternal Regions 4/20/2010
16. To Her I Love 4/20/2010
17. To Myra 4/20/2010
18. Insects In Summer 4/20/2010
19. On The Death Of His Mother 4/20/2010
20. On The Death Of Mr Aikman 4/20/2010
21. Song 4/20/2010
22. On The Hoop 4/20/2010
23. On The Report That A Wooden Bridge Was To Be Built At Westminster 4/20/2010
24. On Happiness 4/20/2010
25. Noontide Retreat Of Summer As A Haunt For Meditation 4/20/2010
26. On Æolus's Harp 4/20/2010
27. Happiness Of A Country Life 4/20/2010
28. To Fortune 4/20/2010
29. The Morning In The Country 4/20/2010
30. Hymn To God's Power 4/20/2010
31. Nothing Formed In Vain 4/20/2010
32. Lisy's Parting With Her Cat 4/20/2010
33. On May 4/20/2010
34. The Study And Beauties Of The Works Of Nature 4/20/2010
35. Waterfall 4/20/2010
36. When Last We Parted 4/20/2010
37. To The Nightingale 4/20/2010
38. To His Royal Highness The Prince Of Wales 4/20/2010
39. To The God Of Fond Desire 4/20/2010
40. Verses Addressed To Amanda 4/20/2010
Best Poem of James Thomson

The Seasons: Winter

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!
Wish'd, wint'ry, Horrors, hail! -- With frequent Foot,
Pleas'd, have I, in my cheerful Morn of Life,
When, nurs'd by careless Solitude, I liv'd,
And sung of Nature with unceasing Joy,
Pleas'd, have I wander'd thro' your rough Domains;
Trod the pure, virgin, Snows, my self as pure:
Heard the Winds roar, and the big Torrent ...

Read the full of The Seasons: Winter

Hymn On Solitude

Hail, mildly pleasing solitude,
Companion of the wise and good;
But, from whose holy, piercing eye,
The herd of fools, and villains fly.
Oh! how I love with thee to walk,
And listen to thy whisper'd talk,
Which innocence, and truth imparts,
And melts the most obdurate hearts.

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