Quote #9
There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead.
More from James Thomson
- Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.
- Ships dim-discovered dropping from the clouds.
- Welcome, kindred glooms! Congenial horrors, hail!
- Sighed and looked unutterable things.
- See, Winter comes to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad.
- Come, gentle Spring! ethereal mildness, come.
- I know no subject more elevating, more amazing, more ready to the poetical enthusiasm, the philosophical reflection, and the moral sentimen…
- The negligence of Nature wide and wild, Where, undisguised by mimic art, she spreads Unbounded beauty to the roving eye.