Thomas Gray Quotes

One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

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.

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,/ The bee's collected treasure sweet,/ Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet/ The still small voice of gratitude.

To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.

To each his suff'rings; all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan,- The tender for another's pain, Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; where ignorance is bliss, 'T is folly to be wise.

Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, afflict the best!

Ah, tell them they are men!

And hie him home, at evening's close, To sweet repast and calm repose.

Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.

Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far,-but far above the great.

Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.

Sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind.

Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.

Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.

The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to mis'ry (all he had) a tear, He gained from Heav'n ('t was all he wish'd) a friend.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

In the evening, I walked alone down to the Lake by the side of Crow Park after sunset and saw the solemn coloring of night draw on, the last gleam of sunshine fading away on the hilltops, the seep serene of the asters, and the long shadows of the mountains thrown across them, till they nearly touched the hithermost shore. At distance hear the murmur of many waterfalls not audible in the day-time. Wished for the moon, but she was dark to me and silent, hid in her vacant interlunar cave.

Rich with the spoils of time.

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

A fav'rite has no friend!

When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

Men will believe anything at all provided they are under no obligation to believe it.

Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

The different steps and degrees of education may be compared to the artificer's operations upon marble; it is one thing to dig it out of the quarry, and another to square it, to give it gloss and lustre, call forth every beautiful spot and vein, shape it into a column, or animate it into a statue.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?

To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man.

Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.

Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Confusion on thy banners wait! Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.

Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?

Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.

Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

The still small voice of gratitude.

No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God.

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow.

He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.

Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor.

And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

Commerce changes entirely the fate and genius of nations, by communicating arts and opinions, circulating money, and introducing the materials of luxury; she first opens and polishes the mind, then corrupts and enervates both that and the body.

Thought would destroy their paradise.