Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.

-Thomas Gray
Thomas Gray

The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring.

Thomas Gray
The time will come, when thou shalt lift thine eyes To watch a long-drawn battle in the skies. While aged peasants, too amazed for words, Stare at the flying fleets of wondrous birds.
Thomas Gray

To contemplation's sober eye,Such is the race of man;And they that creep, and they that fly,Shall end where they began,Alike the busy and the gay,But flutter through life's little day.

Thomas Gray
And weep the more, because I weep in vain. Thomas
Thomas Gray

From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

Thomas Gray
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Thomas Gray

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.

Thomas Gray
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.
Thomas Gray

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.

Thomas Gray
The insect-youth are on the wing,Eager to taste the honied spring,And float amid the liquid noon!