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To contemplation's sober eye, Such is the race of man And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began, Alike the busy and the gay, But flutter through life's little day.

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
Men
Began
Flutter
Life
Busy
Creep
Shall
Creeps
Race
Mortality
Eye
Sober
Ends
Contemplation
Littles
Alike
Little
Gay

More quotes by Thomas Gray

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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.
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Ah, tell them they are men!
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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.
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When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.
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O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of love.
Thomas Gray
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And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
Thomas Gray
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Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Thomas Gray
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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. Yet ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more where ignorance is bliss, 'T is folly to be wise.
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Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions date descry.
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Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.
Thomas Gray
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I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
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The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.
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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
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The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.
Thomas Gray
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The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Thomas Gray
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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
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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.
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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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Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Thomas Gray
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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