Quote

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

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
Thinking
Rude
Canopy
Shade
Brink
Thick
Moss
Branches
Oaks
Grown
Broader
Shall
Stretch
Water
Muse
Glade
Think
Beside
Beech

More quotes by Thomas Gray

Image
Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear.
Thomas Gray
Image
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.
Thomas Gray
Image
Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
Thomas Gray
Image
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Thomas Gray
Image
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
Image
The different steps and degrees of education may be compared to the artificer's operations upon marble it is one thing to dig it out of the quarry, and another to square it, to give it gloss and lustre, call forth every beautiful spot and vein, shape it into a column, or animate it into a statue.
Thomas Gray
Image
Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
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
O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of love.
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
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor.
Thomas Gray
Image
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
Image
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
Image
In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.
Thomas Gray
Image
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Thomas Gray
Image
Thought would destroy their paradise.
Thomas Gray
Image
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
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
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
Thomas Gray
Image
How low, how little are the proud, How indigent the great!
Thomas Gray