The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, / The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, / The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, / And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 1
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learned to stray; Along the cool, sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Owls would have hooted in St Peter's choir,/ And foxes stunk and littered in St Paul's. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Their tears, their little triumphs o'er, / Their human passions now no more. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints not of woe. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Too poor for a bribe and too proud to importune, he had not the method of making a fortune. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,/ Some pious drops the closing eye requires; / E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, / E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, / Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; / Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, / That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! / Confusion on thy banners wait; / Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, / They mock the air with idle state. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Far from the sun and summer-gale, / In thy green lap was Nature's darling laid. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Where once my careless childhood strayed,/ A stranger yet to pain. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,/ The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, / The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, / No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight, / Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul! Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, / Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come, nor care beyond today. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
If the best man's faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat over his eyes. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. Thomas Gray English Poet More Thomas Gray Quotes 0