Thomas Gray

As to posterity, I may ask (with somebody whom I have forgot)
what has it ever done to oblige read more

As to posterity, I may ask (with somebody whom I have forgot)
what has it ever done to oblige me?

The Attic warbler pours her throat
Responsive to the cuckoo's note.

The Attic warbler pours her throat
Responsive to the cuckoo's note.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.

No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they read more

No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.

To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
read more

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.