For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, On some fond breast the parting soul relies, For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd Dead, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 90 95 100 105 "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. "Que morn I miss'd him on the 'custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree: 115 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 120 Slow through the church-yard path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." THE EPITAPH. HERE rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown: Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere ; He gave to Misery (all he had) a tear, 125 130 He gain'd from 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. 135 GRAY. ODE ON THE SPRING. Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, The untaught harmony of Spring: 5 While, whispering pleasure as they fly, 10 How low, how little are the Proud, 20 Still is the toiling hand of Care; Yet hark, how through the peopled air The insect youth are on the wing, And float amid the liquid noon : To Contemplation's sober eye And they that creep, and they that fly, Alike the Busy and the Gay 35 But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colours drest: Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance, They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear in accents low, Poor moralist! and what art thou? Thy joys no glittering female meets, 40 45 50 GRAY. ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE. YE distant spires, ye antique towers, And ye, that from the stately brow Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among His silver-winding way: Ah happy rills! ah pleasing shade! Ah fields beloved in vain! King Henry the Sixth, founder of the College. 5 10 Where once my careless childhood stray'd, I feel the gales that from ye blow As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. Say, father Thames, (for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race, 15 20 Disporting on thy margent green, The paths of pleasure trace,) Who foremost now delight to cleave 25 With pliant arm thy glassy wave? The captive linnet which enthrall? What idle progeny succeed To chase the rolling circle's speed, 30 While some on earnest business bent, 'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint To sweeten liberty; Some bold adventurers disdain 35 The limits of their little reign, |