So Stands The Statue That Enchants The World, So Bending Tries To Veil The Matchless Boast, The Mingled Beauties Of Exulting Greece.

A lucky chance, that oft decides the fate Of mighty monarchs.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 1285...
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 979...
Falsely luxurious, will not man awake?
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 67...
The meek-ey'd Morn appears, mother of dews.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 47...
Who stemm'd the torrent of a downward age.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 1516...
But yonder comes the powerful king of day, Rejoicing in the east.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 81...
Ships dim-discover'd dropping from the clouds.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 946...
Sigh'd and look'd unutterable things.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 1188...
For many a day, and many a dreadful night, Incessant lab'ring round the stormy cape.
-- James Thomson (1700-1748) -- The Seasons, Summer, Line 1003...