Thomas Gray

Thomas Gray

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Томас Грей (англ. Thomas Gray, 26 декабря 1716, Корнхилл — 30 июля 1771, Кембридж) — английский поэт-сентименталист XVIII века, предшественник романтизма, историк литературы.
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Ode On The Death Of A Favourite Cat Drowned In A Tub Of Gold Fishes

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Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had
The azure flowers that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
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Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College

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Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the watry glade,
Where grateful Science still
Her Henry's holy shade;
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Hymn to Adversity

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Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring
The Bad affright, afflict the Best
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The Progress of Poesy A Pindaric Ode

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I
Awake, Æolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings
From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow
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On the Death of Richard West

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In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine, And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire; The birds in vain their amorous descant join; Or cheerful fields resume their green attire; These ears, alas
for other notes repine, A different object do t...
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Ode On The Spring

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Lo
where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, Fair Venus' train appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year
The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring: While whisp'rin...
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Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude

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Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek, and whisper soft She woos the tardy Spring: Till April starts, and calls around The sleeping fragrance from the ground; And lightly o'er the living scene Scatters his fre...
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The Fatal Sisters An Ode

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OM
HE
SE
UE)     Now the storm begins to lower,     (Haste, the loom of Hell prepare
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The Bard

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I
1
"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King
Confusion on thy banners wait,
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The Curse Upon Edward

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VE the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding-sheet of Edward's race
Give ample room, and verge
The characters of hell to trace
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Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

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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
Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight, And all the air a solem...
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