Complete Works of James Thomson Read online

  James Thomson

  (1700-1748)

  Contents

  The Life and Poetry of James Thomson

  Brief Introduction: James Thomson

  Complete Poetical Works of James Thomson

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  The Dramatic Works

  The Tragedy of Sophonisba

  Agamemnon

  Alfred

  Tancred and Sigismunda

  Edward and Eleanora

  Coriolanus

  The Non-Fiction

  Preface to John Milton’s ‘Areopagitica’

  The Biographies

  Thomson by Samuel Johnson

  James Thomson by Thomas Seccombe

  The Delphi Classics Catalogue

  © Delphi Classics 2018

  Version 1

  Browse the entire series…

  James Thomson

  By Delphi Classics, 2018

  COPYRIGHT

  James Thomson - Delphi Poets Series

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by Delphi Classics.

  © Delphi Classics, 2018.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.

  ISBN: 978 1 78877 919 7

  Delphi Classics

  is an imprint of

  Delphi Publishing Ltd

  Hastings, East Sussex

  United Kingdom

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  The Life and Poetry of James Thomson

  Ednam in Roxburghshire, Scottish Borders, near Kelso — Thomson’s birthplace

  Ednam Parish Church

  Brief Introduction: James Thomson

  From ‘A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature’ by John William Cousin

  James Thomson, (1700-1748). — Poet, s. of the minister of Ednam, Roxburghshire, spent most of his youth, however, at Southdean, a neighbouring parish, to which his f. was translated. He was ed. at the parish school there, at Jedburgh, and at Edin., whither he went with the view of studying for the ministry. The style of one of his earliest sermons having been objected to by the Prof. of Divinity as being too flowery and imaginative, he gave up his clerical views and went to London in 1725, taking with him a part of what ultimately became his poem of Winter. By the influence of his friend Mallet he became tutor to Lord Binning, s. of the Earl of Haddington, and was introduced to Pope, Arbuthnot, Gay, and others. Winter was pub. in 1726, and was followed by Summer (1727), Spring (1728), and Autumn (1730), when the whole were brought together as The Seasons. Previous to 1730 he had produced one or two minor poems and the tragedy of Sophonisba, which, after promising some success, was killed by the unfortunate line, “Oh! Sophonisba, Sophonisba, oh!” being parodied as “Oh! Jemmy Thomson, Jemmy Thomson, oh!” In 1731 T. accompanied Charles Talbot, s. of the Lord Chancellor, to the Continent, as tutor, and on his return received the sinecure Secretaryship of Briefs which, however, he lost in 1737, through omitting to apply for its continuance to Talbot’s successor. He then returned to the drama and produced Agamemnon in 1738, and Edward and Eleanora in 1739. The same year he received from the Prince of Wales a pension of £100, and was made Surveyor-General of the Leeward Islands which, after providing for a deputy to discharge the duties, left him £300 a year.

  He was now in comfortable circumstances and settled in a villa near Richmond, where he amused himself with gardening and seeing his friends. In conjunction with Mallet he wrote, in 1740, the masque of Alfred, in which appeared Rule Britannia, which M. afterwards claimed, or allowed to be claimed, for him, but which there is every reason to believe was contributed by T. In 1745 appeared Tancred and Sigismunda, the most successful of his dramas, and in 1748 Coriolanus. In May of the latter year he pub. The Castle of Indolence, an allegorical poem in the Spenserian stanza, generally considered to be his masterpiece. In August following he caught a chill which developed into a fever, and carried him off in his 48th year. Though T. was undoubtedly a poet by nature, his art was developed by constant and fastidious polishing. To The Seasons, originally containing about 4000 lines, he added about 1400 in his various revisions. He was the first to give the description of nature the leading place, and in his treatment of his theme he showed much judgment in the selection of the details to be dwelt upon. His blank verse, though not equal to that of a few other English poets, is musical and wielded in a manner suitable to his subject. In all his poems he displays the genial temper and kindly sympathies by which he was characterised as a man. He was never m., and lived an easy, indolent life, beloved by his many friends.

  A line engraving of James Thomson by James Basire, c. 1746

  Complete Poetical Works of James Thomson

  CONTENTS

  The Seasons

  SPRING

  SUMMER

  AUTUMN

  WINTER

  A HYMN ON THE SEASONS

  The Castle of Indolence

  CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. CANTO I

  CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. CANTO II

  Liberty

  LIBERTY: A POEM

  THE CONTENTS OF PART I

  PART I. ANCIENT AND MODERN ITALY COMPARED

  THE CONTENTS OF PART II

  PART II. GREECE

  THE CONTENTS OF PART III

  PART III. ROME

  THE CONTENTS OF PART IV

  PART IV. BRITAIN

  THE CONTENTS OF PART V

  PART V. THE PROSPECT

  NOTES TO LIBERTY

  Lyrical Pieces

  RULE, BRITANNIA!

  ODE. TELL ME, THOU SOUL OF HER I LOVE,

  COME, GENTLE GOD

  SONG. ONE DAY THE GOD OF FOND DESIRE

  SONG. HARD IS THE FATE OF HIM WHO LOVES

  TO AMANDA

  TO AMANDA II

  TO MYRA

  TO FORTUNE

  THE BASHFUL LOVER

  TO THE NIGHTINGALE

  HYMN ON SOLITUDE

  A NUPTIAL SONG

  AN ODE ON AEOLUS’S HARP

  Memorial Verses

  ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER

  TO THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON

  ON THE DEATH OF MR. WILLIAM AIKMAN, THE PAINTER

  TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD TALBOT, LATE CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN

  EPITAPH ON MISS ELIZABETH STANLEY

  A POEM TO THE MEMORY OF MR. CONGREVE

  Epistles

  TO DODINGTON

  TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES

  TO THE REV. PATRICK MURDOCH

  LINES SENT TO GEORGE LYTTELTON, ESQ. SOON AFTER THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE: WRITTEN IN A COPY OF ‘THE SEASONS ‘.

  TO MRS. MENDEZ’ BIRTHDAY

  TO THE INCOMPARABLE SOPORIFIC DOCTOR

  TO SERAPHINA

  TO AMANDA

  TO AMANDA II

  TO AMANDA, WITH A COPY OF ‘THE SEASONS’

  Miscellaneous Poems

  BRITANNIA: A POEM

  A PARAPHRASE OF THE LATTER PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF

  ON THE REPORT OF A WOODEN BRIDGE TO BE BUILT AT WESTMINSTER

  Juvenilia

  THE WORKS AND WONDERS OF ALMIGHTY POWER

  A PARAPHRASE OF PSALM CIV

  A COMPLAINT ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE

  HYMN ON THE POWER OF GOD

  A PASTORAL BETWIXT DAVID, THI
RSIS, AND THE ANGEL GABRIEL, UPON THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR

  PASTORAL BETWEEN THIRSIS AND CORYDON UPON THE DEATH OF DAMON

  OF A COUNTRY LIFE

  UPON HAPPINESS

  VERSES ON RECEIVING A FLOWER FROM A LADY

  ON BEAUTY

  A PASTORAL ENTERTAINMENT

  AN ELEGY UPON JAMES THERBURN IN CHATTO

  ON THE HOOP

  AN ELEGY ON PARTING

  THE MONTH OF MAY

  MORNING IN THE COUNTRY

  LISY’S PARTING WITH HER CAT

  LINES ON MARLEFIELD

  A POETICAL EPISTLE TO SIR WILLIAM BENNET

  The Seasons

  CONTENTS

  SPRING

  SUMMER

  AUTUMN

  WINTER

  A HYMN ON THE SEASONS

  SPRING

  THE ARGUMENT

  The subject proposed. Inscribed to Lady Hartford. This Season is described as it affects the various parts of Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher; and mixed with Digressions arising from the subject. Its influence on inanimate Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and last on Man; concluding with a Dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of Love, opposed to that of a purer and more reasonable kind.

  Come, gentle Spring, æthereal 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,

  That thy own season paints; when Nature all

  Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.

  And see where surly Winter passes off,

  Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts;

  His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,

  The shatter’d forest, and the ravag’d vale:

  While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,

  Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,

  The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.

  As yet the trembling year is unconfirm’d,

  And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,

  Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets

  Deform the day delightless; so that scarce

  The Bittern knows his time, with bill engulft

  To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore

  The Plover theirs, to scatter o’er the heath,

  And sing their wild notes to the listening waste.

  At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,

  And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more

  Th’ expansive atmosphere is cramp’d with cold,

  But full of life, and vivifying soul,

  Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin,

  Fleecy, and white, o’er all-surrounding heaven.

  Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfin’d,

  Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.

  Joyous th’impatient husbandman perceives

  Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers,

  Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us’d plow

  Lies in the furrow loosen’d from the frost.

  There, unrefusing to the harness’d yoke,

  They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,

  Chear’d by the simple song, and soaring lark.

  Meanwhile incumbent o’er the shining share

  The master leans, removes th’ obstructing clay,

  Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe.

  White thro’ the neighbouring fields the sower stalks,

  With measur’d step, and liberal throws the grain

  Into the faithful bosom of the Ground.

  The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.

  Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man

  Has done his due. Ye fostering breezes, blow!

  Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!

  And temper all, thou world-reviving sun,

  Into the perfect year! Nor, ye who live

  In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride,

  Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear.

  ’Twas such as these the rural Maro sung

  To the full Roman court, in all its height

  Of elegance and taste. The sacred plow

  Employ’d the kings and fathers of mankind,

  In antient times. And some, with whom compar’d

  You’re but the beings of a summer’s day,

  Have held the scale of justice, shook the lance

  Of mighty war, then with descending hand,

  Unus’d to little delicacies, seiz’d

  The plow, and greatly independent liv’d.

  Ye generous Britons, cultivate the plow!

  And o’er your hills, and long withdrawing vales,

  Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun,

  Luxuriant, and unbounded. As the sea,

  Far thro’ his azurem turbulent extent,

  Your empire owns, and from a thousand shores

  Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports;

  So with superior boon may your rich soil,

  Exuberant, nature’s better blessings pour

  O’er every land, the naked nations cloath,

  And be th’ exhaustless granary of a world!

  Nor thro’ the lenient air alone, this change

  Delicious breathes; the penetrative sun,

  His force deep-darting to the dark retreat

  Of vegetation, sets the steaming power

  At large, to wander o’er the vernant earth

  In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay Green!

  Thou smiling Nature’s universal robe!

  United light and shade! where the sight dwells

  With growing strength, and ever-new delight!

  From the moist meadow to the brown-bow’d hill,

  Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs,

  And swells, and deepens to the cherish’d eye.

  The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves

  Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,

  Till the whole leafy forest stands display’d,

  In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales;

  While the deer rustle thro’ the twining brake,

  And the birds sing conceal’d. At once array’d

  In all the colours of the flushing year,

  By Nature’s swift and secret-working hand,

  The garden glows, and fills the liberal air

  With lavish fragrance; while the promis’d fruit

  Lies yet a little embryo, unperceiv’d,

  Within its crimson folds. Now from the town,

  Buried in smoak, and sleep, and noisom damps,

  Oft let me wander o’er the dewy fields,

  Where freshness breathes, and dash the lucid drops

  From the bent bush, as thro’ the fuming maze

  Of sweet-briar hedges I pursue my walk;

  Or taste the smell of dairy; or ascend

  Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains,

  And see the country far-diffus’d around

  One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower

  Of mingled blossoms; where the raptur’d eye

  Travels from joy to joy, and, hid beneath

  The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies.

  If brushed from Russian wilds a cutting gale

  Rise not, and scatter from his foggy wings

  The bitter mildew, or dry-blowing breathe

  Untimely frost; before whose baleful blast,

  The full-blown Spring thro’ all her foliage shrinks,

  Into a smutty, wide-dejected waste.

  For oft engender’d by the hazy north,

  Myriads on myriads, insect-armies waft

  Keen in t
he poison’d breeze; and wasteful eat

  Thro’ buds and bark, into the blacken’d Core,

  Their eager way. A feeble race! scarce seen,

  Save by the prying eye; yet famine waits

  On their corrosive course, and kills the year.

  Sometimes o’er cities as they steer their flight,

  Where rising vapour melts their wings away,

  Gaz’d by th’astonish’d crowd, the horrid shower

  Descends. And hence the skilful farmer chaff,

  And blazing straw before his orchard burns;

  Till, all involv’d in smoak, the latent foe

  From every cranny suffocated falls;

  Of onions, steaming hot, beneath his trees

  Exposes, fatal to the frosty tribe:

  Nor, from their friendly task, the busy bill

  Of little trooping birds instinctive scares.

  These are not idle philosophic dreams,

  Full Nature swarms with life. Th’ faithful fen

  In purtrid steams emits the livid cloud

  Of pestilence. Thro’ subterranean cells,

  Where searching sun-beams never found a way,

  Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf

  Wants not its soft inhabitants. The stone,

  Hard as it is, in every winding pore

  Holds multitudes. But chief the forest-boughs,

  Which dance unnumber’d to th’ inspiring breeze,

  The downy orchard, and the melting pulp

  Of mellow fruit the nameless nations feed

  Of evanescent insects. Where the pool

  Stands mantled o’er with green, invisible,

  Amid the floating verdure millions stray.

  Each liquid too, whether of acid taste,

  Potent, or mild, with various forms abounds.

  Nor is the lucid stream, nor the pure air,

  Tho’ one transparent vacancy they seem,