Poems by James Thomson | Poetree

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On A Country Life

On A Country Life

I hate the clamours of the smoky towns,

But much admire the bliss of rural clowns;

Where some remains of innocence appear,

Where no rude noise insults the listening ear;

Nought but soft zephyrs whispering through the trees,

Or the still humming of the painful bees;

The gentle murmurs of a purling rill,

Or the unwearied chirping of the drill;

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by James Thomson

The Four Seasons : Spring

The Four Seasons : Spring

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,

And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,

While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower

Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.

O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts

With unaffected grace, or walk the plain

With innocence and meditation join'd

In soft assemblage, listen to my song,

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by James Thomson