To the Reverend Patrick Murdoch, Rector of Stradishall, in Suffolk
Thus safely low, my friend, thou canst not fall:
Here reigns a deep tranquillity o’er all;
No noise, no care, no vanity, no strife;
Men, woods, and fields, all breathe untroubled life.
Then keep each passion down, however dear;
Trust me, the tender are the most severe.
Guard, while ’tis thine, thy philosophic ease,
And ask no joy but that of virtuous peace;
That bids defiance to the storms of fate:
High bliss is only for a higher state!
Autres oeuvres par James Thomson...
Stanzas Written by Thomson on the Blank Leaf of a Copy of His 'seasons’ Sent by Him to Mr. Lyttleton, Soon After the Death of His Wife
Go, little book, and find our Fri… Who Nature and the Muses loves, Who cares the public virtues blend With all the softness of the grove… A fitter time thou canst not choos…
