'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more; I mourn, b… - James Beattie

'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more; I mourn, but you woodlands I mourn not for you! For spring is returning your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance and glittering with dew. Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn, Kind nature the embryo blossom shall save; But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?

James Beattie

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About James Beattie

Professor James Beattie (October 25, 1735 – August 18, 1803) was a Scottish scholar and writer.

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John Milton Thomas Gray Alfred Tennyson Samuel Taylor Coleridge Lord Byron

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Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free;
Patient of toil, serene amidst alarms;
Inflexible in faith, invincible in arms.

Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.

When squint-eyed Slander plies the unhallow'd tongue,
From poison'd maw when Treason weaves his line,
And Muse apostate (infamy to song!)
Grovels, low muttering, at Sedition's shrine.

'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more; I mourn, but you woodlands I mourn not for you! For spring is returning your charms to restore, Perf… - James Beattie

About James Beattie

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