Thomas Gray Short Quotes

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The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn.

Thomas Gray
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.

Thomas Gray
To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.

Thomas Gray
And moody madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.

Thomas Gray
Iron sleet of arrowy shower
Hurtles in the darkened air.

Thomas Gray
Now my weary lips I close;
Leave me, leave me to repose!

Thomas Gray
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat's averse to fish?

Thomas Gray
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.

Thomas Gray
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the wat'ry glade.

Thomas Gray
And hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast and calm repose.

Thomas Gray
Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passages that lead to nothing.

Thomas Gray
From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

Thomas Gray
Loose his beard, and hoary hair
Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air.

Thomas Gray
Far from the sun and summer-gale,
In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid.

Thomas Gray
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.

Thomas Gray
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

Thomas Gray
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight,
Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!

Thomas Gray
One principal characteristic of vice in the present age is the contempt of fame.

Thomas Gray
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

Thomas Gray
It has been usual to catch a mouse or two (for form's sake) in public once a year.
On refusing the Laureateship

Thomas Gray
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r
The moping owl does to the moon complain.

Thomas Gray
Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.

Thomas Gray
As sickly plants betray a niggard earth,
Whose barren bosom starves her gen'rous birth.

Thomas Gray
Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.

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

Thomas Gray
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.

Thomas Gray
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our Ashes live their wonted Fires.

Thomas Gray
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,
Beneath the good how far,—but far above the great.

Thomas Gray
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learned to melt at others' woe.

Thomas Gray
Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes;
Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.

Thomas Gray