Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader browner shade; Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think. Thomas Gray More Quotes by Thomas Gray More Quotes From Thomas Gray 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. Thomas Gray soul friendship heaven But knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul. Thomas Gray eye soul time 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. Thomas Gray pain blow happiness 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. Thomas Gray wealth path beauty And weep the more, because I weep in vain. Thomas Gray vain Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Thomas Gray tribute sigh passing Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death? Thomas Gray voice dust honor I shall be but a shrimp of an author. Thomas Gray shrimp To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man. Thomas Gray eye race men To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet. Thomas Gray cadence ballet feet Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre. Thomas Gray might life hands Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife. Thomas Gray strife crowds solitude Low on his funeral couch he lies! Thomas Gray deceit funeral lying Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear. Thomas Gray rays ocean dark Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Thomas Gray sunshine gay hope Along the cool sequestered vale of life, Thomas Gray life way In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. Thomas Gray pain grief moving The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring. Thomas Gray cuckoos harmony spring Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Thomas Gray eye heart life To each his suff'rings: all are men, / Condemn'd alike to groan, / The tender for another's pain; / Th' unfeeling for his own. Thomas Gray pain suffering men
