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What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others' woe.
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Thomas Gray |
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Now my weary lips I close; Leave me, leave me to repose!
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Thomas Gray |
95268ad
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Iron sleet of arrowy shower Hurtles in the darkened air.
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Thomas Gray |
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Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, He had not the method of making a fortune.
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Thomas Gray |
6ff940c
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I shall be but a shrimp of an author.
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Thomas Gray |
341e768
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Comus and his midnight crew.
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Thomas Gray |
5ac407a
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While bright-eyed Science watches round.
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Thomas Gray |
5654b1b
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And weep the more, because I weep in vain.
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Thomas Gray |
0616cbb
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Rich windows that exclude the light, And passages that lead to nothing.
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Thomas Gray |
4f6f330
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The social smile, the sympathetic tear.
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Thomas Gray |
d0c705c
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And hie him home, at evening's close, To sweet repast and calm repose.
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Thomas Gray |
3b430a7
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From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take.
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Thomas Gray |
8bc3ac1
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Glance their many-twinkling feet.
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Thomas Gray |
415b9e8
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Far from the sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid.
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Thomas Gray |
9197fd4
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Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
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Thomas Gray |
ea80aba
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Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far,--but far above the great.
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Thomas Gray |
f9d2ea1
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Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the wat'ry glade.
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Thomas Gray |
47d15ee
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Ah, tell them they are men!
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Thomas Gray |
7a110c5
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Grim-visaged comfortless Despair.
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Thomas Gray |
2de7886
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And moody madness laughing wild Amid severest woe.
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Thomas Gray |
e33aa32
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What female heart can gold despise? What cat's averse to fish?
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Thomas Gray |
bb416ec
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Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r The moping owl does to the moon complain.
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Thomas Gray |
92dbbb2
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Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
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Thomas Gray |
ef6957e
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Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
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Thomas Gray |
bc60af5
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Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
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Thomas Gray |
76909ce
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And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
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Thomas Gray |
8d87d85
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E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our Ashes live their wonted Fires.
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Thomas Gray |
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Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
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Thomas Gray |
5fdb1dc
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To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
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Thomas Gray |
90081b1
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Dear, as the light that visits these sad eyes; Dear, as the ruddy drops that warm my heart.
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Thomas Gray |
c77fac0
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Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.
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Thomas Gray |
f094199
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Visions of glory, spare my aching sight, Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
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Thomas Gray |