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There Studious Let Me Sit, And Hold High Converse With The Mighty Dead.
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There studious let me sit,
And hold high converse with the mighty dead.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748)
-- The Seasons, Winter, Line 431
Related:
See, Winter comes to rule the varied year.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Winter, Line 1...
A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate Of mighty monarchs.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 1285...
Cruel as death, and hungry as the grave.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Winter, Line 393...
The kiss, snatch'd hasty from the sidelong maid.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Winter, Line 625...
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 979...
Autumn nodding o'er the yellow plain. -- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Autumn, Line 2
Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears Her snaky crest.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Spring, Line 996...
Base Envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Spring, Line 283...
But yonder comes the powerful king of day, Rejoicing in the east.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 81...