Thomas Gray ( 7 of 57 )
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.
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.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.
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.
In climes beyond the solar road.
In climes beyond the solar road.
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the read more
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are open paradise.
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In read more
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.
