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" Should fate command me to the farthest verge 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 Atlantic isles, — 'tis naught to me : Since God is... "
Select Readings from the Poets and Prose Writers of Every Country - Стр. 350
авторы: James Fleming (ed) - 1866
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The Seasons: By James Thomson; with His Life, an Index, and Glossary ...

James Thomson - 1793 - Страниц: 225
...theme, Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray 95 SHOULD fate command me to the farthest verge i oo Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Rivers...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since GOD is ever present, ever felt, 105 In the void waste...
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The Beauties of the Poets:: Being a Collection of Moral and Sacred Poetry ...

1800 - Страниц: 304
...first the sun GilJs Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me :. Since GOD is ever present, ever felt, In...city full; And where he vital breathes, there must be joyWhen ev'n at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful...
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The Seasons: By James Thomson

James Thomson - 1800 - Страниц: 288
...blackening east ; Be my tongue mute , my fancy paint no more , And, dead to joy , forget my heart to heat ! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth , to distant barbarous climes , Hirers unknown to song ; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on...
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The Works of Mr. James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Том 1

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1802
...blackening east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in...
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The works of mr. James Thomson, to which is prefixed the life of the ..., Том 1

James Thomson - 1802
...blackening east; Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in...
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The Works of Mr. James Thomson: With His Last Corrections and ..., Том 1

James Thomson, Patrick Murdoch - 1802
...first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the...full; And where He vital breathes there must be joy. When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful...
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The Seasons

James Thomson - 1802 - Страниц: 262
...heart to beat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes, Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in...
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The seasons. To which is prefixed the life of the author

James Thomson - 1803 - Страниц: 168
...heart to heat! Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant harharous climes. Rivers unknown to song ; where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting heam Flames on th ' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me:Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the...
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The Poetical Works of James Thomson: With His Last Corrections ..., Том 1

James Thomson, John Aikin - 1804
...more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! Should Fate command me to the farthest verge 100 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes. Rivers...his setting beam Flames on the Atlantic isles, 'tis nought to me } Since God is ever present, ever felt, 105 And where he vital breathes there must be...
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The Poetical Preceptor; Or, A Collection of Select Pieces of Poetry ...

1806 - Страниц: 380
...paint no more. And, dead to joy, forget my heart to bent ! Should fate command me to the fai thest verge Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes,...Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me: Since GOD is ever present, ever 'felt, In the void waste as...
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