Quote

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly rising o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.

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
Fairs
Proudly
Prow
Fair
Blows
Zephyr
Blow
Laughs
Trim
Youth
Vessel
Morn
Laughing
Realm
Azure
Goes
Realms
Gilded
Pleasure
Soft
Gallant
Rising
Helm

More quotes by Thomas Gray

Image
To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man.
Thomas Gray
Image
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Thomas Gray
Image
Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.
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
When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.
Thomas Gray
Image
Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
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
Image
Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.
Thomas Gray
Image
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?
Thomas Gray
Image
Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.
Thomas Gray
Image
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.
Thomas Gray