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To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man.
Thomas Gray
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Thomas Gray
Age: 54 †
Born: 1716
Born: December 26
Died: 1771
Died: July 30
Literary Critic
Poet
London
England
Race
Eye
Men
Sober
Contemplation
More quotes by Thomas Gray
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.
Thomas Gray
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
To contemplation's sober eye, Such is the race of man And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began, Alike the busy and the gay, But flutter through life's little day.
Thomas Gray
Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.
Thomas Gray
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring.
Thomas Gray
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Thomas Gray
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
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
Thomas Gray
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.
Thomas Gray
In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.
Thomas Gray
Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
Thomas Gray
Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.
Thomas Gray
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?
Thomas Gray
How low, how little are the proud, How indigent the great!
Thomas Gray
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Thomas Gray
One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame.
Thomas Gray
Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
Thomas Gray
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
Along the cool sequestered vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
Thomas Gray