James  Thomson

James Thomson’s Followers (17)

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James Thomson


Born
in Port Glasgow, Scotland
November 23, 1834

Died
June 03, 1882

Genre

Influences


James Thomson, who wrote under the pseudonym Bysshe Vanolis, was a Victorian-era poet famous primarily for the long poem The City of Dreadful Night (1874), an expression of bleak pessimism in a dehumanized, uncaring urban environment. He is often distinguished from the earlier Scottish poet James Thomson by the letters B.V. after his name.

Thomson was born in Port Glasgow, Scotland, and, after his father suffered a stroke, raised in an orphanage. He received his education at the Caledonian Asylum and the Royal Military Academy and served in Ireland, where in 1851, at the age of 17, he made the acquaintance of the 18-year-old Charles Bradlaugh who was already notorious as a freethinker, having published his first atheist pamphlet a year earli
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Average rating: 3.96 · 387 ratings · 45 reviews · 47 distinct worksSimilar authors
The City of Dreadful Night

3.91 avg rating — 346 ratings — published 1874 — 111 editions
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The City of Dreadful Night ...

4.44 avg rating — 18 ratings — published 1874 — 90 editions
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Vane's story, Weddah and Om...

4.20 avg rating — 5 ratings — published 1881 — 51 editions
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A Voice from the Nile and O...

3.80 avg rating — 5 ratings — published 1884 — 36 editions
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James Thomson Poetical Works

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 3 ratings — published 1965 — 4 editions
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The City of Dreadful Night ...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 2 ratings2 editions
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Walt Whitman

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really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 2 ratings — published 1910 — 23 editions
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Poems and Some Letters of J...

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it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 1963 — 2 editions
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The poetical works of James...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating
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Satires and Profanities

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really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 1884 — 30 editions
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More books by James Thomson…
Quotes by James Thomson  (?)
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“Your woe hath been my anguish; yea, I quail
And perish in your perishing unblest.
And I have searched the highths and depths, the scope
Of all our universe, with desperate hope
To find some solace for your wild unrest.”
James Thomson, The City of Dreadful Night

“Who is most wretched in this dolorous place?
I think myself; yet I would rather be
My miserable self than He, than He
Who formed such creatures to His own disgrace.

The vilest thing must be less vile than Thou
From whom it had its being, God and Lord!
Creator of all woe and sin! abhorred
Malignant and implacable! I vow

That not for all Thy power furled and unfurled,
For all the temples to Thy glory built,
Would I assume the ignominious guilt
Of having made such men in such a world.

As if a Being, God or Fiend, could reign,
At once so wicked, foolish and insane,
As to produce men when He might refrain!

The world rolls round for ever like a mill;
It grinds out death and life and good and ill;
It has no purpose, heart or mind or will.

While air of Space and Time's full river flow
The mill must blindly whirl unresting so:
It may be wearing out, but who can know?

Man might know one thing were his sight less dim;
That it whirls not to suit his petty whim,
That it is quite indifferent to him.

Nay, does it treat him harshly as he saith?
It grinds him some slow years of bitter breath,
Then grinds him back into eternal death.”
James Thomson, The City of Dreadful Night

“Once in a stately passion I cried with desperate grief
'Oh Lord, my heart is black with guile, of sinners I am chief'
Then stooped my guardian angel and whispered from behind
'Vanity my little man, you're nothing of the kind'

James Thomson

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