And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastis'd by sabler tints not of woe
The meanest flowret of the vale, / The simplest note that swells the gale, / The common sun, the air, and skies, / To him are opening paradise.
Full many a gem of purest ray sereneThe dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear:Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
He passed the flaming bounds of space and time: / The living throne, the sapphire-blaze, / Where angels tremble while they gaze, / He saw; but blasted with excess of light, / Closed his eyes in endless night.
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.
I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
The hues of bliss more brightly glow,Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
'Tis folly to be wise. Thomas
Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
And weep the more, because I weep in vain. Thomas
Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise. Thomas Gra
England, so long mistress of the sea, Where winds and waves confess her sovereignty, Her ancient triumphs yet on high shall bear And reign the sovereign of the conquered air.
And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,/ Some pious drops the closing eye requires; / E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, / E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
T'was Spring, t'was Summer, all was gay Now Autumn bears a cloud brow The flowers of Spring are swept way And Summer fruits desert the bough
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight.
The different steps and degrees of education may be compared to the artificer's operations upon marble; it is one thing to dig it out of the quarry, and another to square it, to give it gloss and lustre, call forth every beautiful spot and vein, shape it into a column, or animate it into a statue.
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, / Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?
As to posterity, I may ask what has it ever done to oblige me?
Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,Less pleasing when possest;The tear forgot as soon as shed,The sunshine of the breast.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, / Beneath the good how far - but far above the great.
From toil he 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.
Along the cool sequestered vale of life,They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.