Thomas Gray

And to hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast, and calm repose.
. . . read more

And to hie him home, at evening's close,
To sweet repast, and calm repose.
. . . .
From toil we 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.

They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

And read their history in a nation's eyes.

And read their history in a nation's eyes.

And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.

And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.