The Seasons

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R. Morison Junior, 1793 - 295 sider
 

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Side 237 - Great Source of day, best image here below Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, From world to world, the vital ocean round, On Nature write with every beam his praise.
Side 235 - THESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of THEE. Forth in the pleasing Spring THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy. Then comes THY glory in the Summer months, With light and heat refulgent.
Side 53 - Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow And from before the lustre of her face White break the clouds away. With quickened step Brown night retires. Young day pours in apace And opens all the lawny prospect wide. The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top Swell on the sight and brighten with the dawn. Blue through the dusk the smoking currents shine, And from the bladed field the fearful hare Limps awkward, while along the forest glade The wild deer trip and often turning gaze At early passenger.
Side 239 - Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song, where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on the...
Side 237 - Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main, A secret world of wonders in thyself, Sound his stupendous praise whose greater voice Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Side 198 - Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, In joyless fields and thorny thickets, leaves His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man His annual visit. Half afraid, he first Against the window beats; then, brisk, alights On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor, Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is; Till more familiar grown, the table-crumbs Attract his slender feet.
Side 201 - Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Side 98 - The dash of clouds, or irritating war Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, They furious spring. A boding silence reigns, Dread through the dun...
Side 217 - An icy gale, oft shifting, o'er the pool Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career Arrests the bickering stream.
Side 235 - With light and heat refulgent. Then thy sun Shoots full perfection through the swelling year: And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks, And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, By brooks and groves in hollow-whispering gales.

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