Thomas Gray Quotes on Nature
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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.
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Far from the sun and summer-gale, In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid.
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Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, The bee's collected treasures sweet, Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet The still small voice of gratitude.
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Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
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'Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers, that blow; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima reclined, Gazed on the lake below.
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What female heart can gold despise? What cat's averse to fish?
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The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
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Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.
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Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r The moping owl does to the moon complain.
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E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our Ashes live their wonted Fires.