Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune.
Thomas Gray (1716 - 1771)
Source: Sketch of His Own Character
Contributed by: Zaady
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.
And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
Source: On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 8.
The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Source: Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 53.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Source: Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 13.
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor.
Source: Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 8.
To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
Source: The Bard. I. 2, Line 14.
Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade! Ah, fields beloved in vain! Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow.
Source: On a Distant Prospect of Eton College. Stanza 2.
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