Quote

Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.

Thomas Gray

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Thomas Gray
Age: 54 †
Born: 1716
Born: December 26
Died: 1771
Died: July 30
Literary Critic
Poet
London
England
Life
Lyre
Sway
Empire
Ecstasy
Empires
Living
Hands
Might
Waked

More quotes by Thomas Gray

Image
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.
Thomas Gray
Image
Along the cool sequestered vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
Thomas Gray
Image
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.
Thomas Gray
Image
Ah, tell them they are men!
Thomas Gray
Image
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.
Thomas Gray
Image
How low, how little are the proud, How indigent the great!
Thomas Gray
Image
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Thomas Gray
Image
Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.
Thomas Gray
Image
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
Thomas Gray
Image
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.
Thomas Gray
Image
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Thomas Gray
Image
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
Image
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Thomas Gray
Image
The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring.
Thomas Gray
Image
Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
Thomas Gray