James Thomson

J. Gest of Modbury, "Lines on Reading Thomson's Seasons" Weekly Miscellany [Sherborne] 18 (6 May 1782) 144.

Ye Nine advance, while I the trembling string
Attempt to touch, and of fam'd Thomson sing.
Thomson, "meek nature's child!" how does thy page,
Dress'd with becoming art, our thoughts engage?
Though bold yet flows with unaffected ease,
That ev'ry sense its secret joy betrays:
See! fresh description reigns in every line,
And rural sweets in gay confusion shine!
See! every flower its wonted hues retain,
As in the painted grove or fertile plain!
How has thy muse been wont, and often stray'd
The field, the lawn, and the enchanting mead,
Where nought was unexplor'd, but all survey'd?
The orient drop that glistens on the thorn,
The spangled flower that does the grove adorn,
The leaf which from the expanded oak did fly,
Were not unheeded by his curious eye:
Beauties throughout successively arise,
And strike delightfully the wond'ring eyes.
Nature's magnificence is painted here,
Pleasing or dreadful through the circling year;
The blooming spring, the summer's splendid reign,
Autumnal sweets, and winter's drear domain;
These, as they change, in all their beauties shine,
In thy enrapturing page, and only thine.