The Poetical Works of Thomas Gray |
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Page xx
... mother , who , out of her share of the proceeds of a trade in which her little capital was vested pre- viously to her marriage , in partnership with her sis- ter , in what was then called an India warehouse , ( the profits of which were ...
... mother , who , out of her share of the proceeds of a trade in which her little capital was vested pre- viously to her marriage , in partnership with her sis- ter , in what was then called an India warehouse , ( the profits of which were ...
Page xxi
... mother , Gray had already owed the preservation of his life . All the rest of her children died in their infancy ... mother's promptly opening a vein with her own hand * . She lived to see her affec- tionate exertions and solicitudes ...
... mother , Gray had already owed the preservation of his life . All the rest of her children died in their infancy ... mother's promptly opening a vein with her own hand * . She lived to see her affec- tionate exertions and solicitudes ...
Page xxiii
... mother at Stoke . He addressed it to that same accomplished correspondent ; but it never reached him . West was at the time numbered with the dead , his tender frame having sunk be- neath the pressure of sickness and domestic sor- rows ...
... mother at Stoke . He addressed it to that same accomplished correspondent ; but it never reached him . West was at the time numbered with the dead , his tender frame having sunk be- neath the pressure of sickness and domestic sor- rows ...
Page xxix
... Mother . " Beneath these rugged elms , that yew - tree's shade , Where beaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap , Each in his narrow cell for ever laid , The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep . The boast of heraldry , the pomp of ...
... Mother . " Beneath these rugged elms , that yew - tree's shade , Where beaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap , Each in his narrow cell for ever laid , The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep . The boast of heraldry , the pomp of ...
Page 10
... to wound my heart . The gen'rous spark extinct revive , Teach me to love , and to forgive , Exact my own defects to scan , What others are to feel , and know myself a Man . PROGRESS OF POESY . To him the mighty Mother did 10 ODES .
... to wound my heart . The gen'rous spark extinct revive , Teach me to love , and to forgive , Exact my own defects to scan , What others are to feel , and know myself a Man . PROGRESS OF POESY . To him the mighty Mother did 10 ODES .
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Common terms and phrases
ACERONIA AGRIPPINA ancient Anicetus arva atque auras awake Baiæ Bard beauties beneath breath brow Caernarvonshire Cambridge charm College death divine DRAWN BY RICHARD dread earl Edward Eirin Elegy Eton Eton College eyes fame fate fears feel fire genius glitt'ring golden grace Gray's hæc hear heart heav'n Hinc honour ignes John Penn JOHN SHARPE king lady latè Long Story longo Lord lyre Margaret of Anjou MASINISSA Mason mind morn mother Muse Nero o'er oculis oculos ODIN Otho passion PICCADILLY Pindar pleasure poem poet poetry Poppaa PROPHETESS quâ quæ quod racter regna reign repose rerum RICHARD WESTALL round Scilicet shade Sisters smiling soft solemn song soul spirit stanza Stoke style sublime tactus Taliessin taste tear thee THOMAS GRAY thou trembling vale verse voice Walpole weep wings written youth
Popular passages
Page 18 - Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes: Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm : Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That hushed in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Page 19 - Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare, Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast: Close by the regal chair Fell thirst and famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way.
Page 3 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race, Disporting on thy margent green, The paths of pleasure trace, Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm thy glassy wave?
Page 51 - One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree ; Another came ; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. ' The next with dirges due in sad array Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 50 - Await alike the inevitable hour ; The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, ' If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Page 17 - Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, Ye died amidst your dying country's cries — No more I weep. They do not sleep. On yonder cliffs, a...
Page 49 - 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. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 52 - Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. 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.
Page 50 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply, And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
Page 4 - Alas! regardless of their doom The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come Nor care beyond to-day: Yet see how all around 'em wait The ministers of human fate And black Misfortune's baleful train!