James Thomson Quotes

Yet I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear.

As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: All was black, In heaven no single star, on earth no track; A brooding hush without a stir or note; The air so thick it clotted in my throat.

The City is of Night; perchance of Death, But certainly of Night.

The City is of Night, but not of Sleep; There sweet Sleep is not for the weary brain; The pitiless hours like years and ages creep, A night seems term less hell.

As we rush, as we rush in the train, The trees and the houses go wheeling back, But the starry heavens above that plain Come flying on our track.

A little round, fat, oily man of God, Was one I chiefly marked among the fry: He had a roguish twinkle in his eye.

There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead.

Welcome, kindred glooms! Congenial horrors, hail!

Poor is the triumph o’er the timid hare!

Or sighed and looked unutterable things.

An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!

Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot.

When Britain first, at heaven’s command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain: ‘Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves.’