But who can paint Like nature? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?
James Thomson (1700 - 1748)
Source: The Seasons.
Contributed by: Zaady
Ships dim-discovered dropping from the clouds.
Source: The Seasons. Summer, 1727
Or where the Northern ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked melancholy isles Of farthest Thulé and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.
Source: The Seasons. Autumn, 1730
But who can paint Like Nature? Can imagination boast, Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?
A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard be-seems, Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, On virtue still, and nature's pleasing themes, Poured from his unpremeditated strain.
Source: The Castle of Indolence, 1748
Crowned with the sickle, and wheaten sheaf, While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, Comes jovial on.
Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery Thickets hail! Ye lofty Pines! ye venerable Oaks! Ye Ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep! Delicious is your shelter to the soul.
Source: The Seasons. Summer
An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural, quiet, friendship, books.
Source: The Seasons. Spring, 1728
Come then, expressive silence, muse His praise.
Source: Hymn, 1730
Forever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to love, And, when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between and bid us part?
Source: To Fortune
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