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From toil he wins his spirits light, From busy day the peaceful night Rich, from the very want of wealth, In heaven's best treasures, peace and health.
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
Heaven
Spirits
Peace
Peaceful
Spirit
Treasure
Night
Busy
Light
Health
Best
Wealth
Treasures
Rich
Wins
Winning
Toil
More quotes by 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
O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of love.
Thomas Gray
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Thomas Gray
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Thomas Gray
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
Thomas Gray
Ah, tell them they are men!
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
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts, is lawful prize Nor all that glisters gold.
Thomas Gray
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
Thomas Gray
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
Thomas Gray
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
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
As to posterity, I may ask what has it ever done to oblige me?
Thomas Gray
Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
Thomas Gray
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
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.
Thomas Gray
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
Thomas Gray
Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
Thomas Gray
T'was Spring, t'was Summer, all was gay Now Autumn bears a cloud brow The flowers of Spring are swept way And Summer fruits desert the bough
Thomas Gray