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

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
Feds
Lasting
Murder
London
Shame
Julius
Many
Foul
Towers
Midnight

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We frolic while 'tis May.
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Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.
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To each his suff'rings: all are men, / Condemn'd alike to groan, / The tender for another's pain / Th' unfeeling for his own.
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And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
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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.
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Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
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In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.
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Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
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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.
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Can storied urn, or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
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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.
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The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
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Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
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Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
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To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man.
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Along the cool sequestered vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
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And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
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Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.
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Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.
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