Quote

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

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

More quotes by 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
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
Image
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Thomas Gray
Image
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
Thomas Gray
Image
The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring.
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
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
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
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
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
How low, how little are the proud, How indigent the great!
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
And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray
Image
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Thomas Gray
Image
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
Thomas Gray
Image
We frolic while 'tis May.
Thomas Gray
Image
As to posterity, I may ask what has it ever done to oblige me?
Thomas Gray
Image
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
Thomas Gray
Image
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Thomas Gray