The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastised by sabler tints of woe.
Thomas Gray (1716 - 1771)
Source: Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 45.
Contributed by: Zaady
One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree: Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.
Source: Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 28.
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Confusion on thy banners wait! Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.
Source: The Bard. I. 1, Line 1.
When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune.
Source: Sketch of His Own Character
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.
Source: The Epitaph.
Ah, tell them they are men!
Source: On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 6.
Comus and his midnight crew.
Source: Ode for Music. The Bard. III. 3, Line 2.
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far,-but far above the great.
Source: The Progress of Poesy. III. Line 16.
A fav'rite has no friend!
Source: On the death of a Favourite Cat.
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