Thomas Gray

Hard Unkindness' alter'd eye,
That mocks the tear if forced to flow.

Hard Unkindness' alter'd eye,
That mocks the tear if forced to flow.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
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There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
The Redbreast loves to build and warble there,
And little Footsteps lightly print the ground.

While bright-eyed science watches round.

While bright-eyed science watches round.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
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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.