165 Quotes by Thomas Gray

Can storied urn, or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death?

There sit the sainted sage, the bard divine, / The few, whom genius gave to shine / Through every unborn age, and undiscovered clime.

The wording of the contract is no different than the original offer. There's no protection on our jobs whatsoever. There's no guarantee that I'll be going back to work.

Th' applause of listening senates to command, / The threats of pain and ruin to despise,/ To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, / And read their history in a nation's eyes.

Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! / Confusion on thy banners wait; / Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, / They mock the air with idle state.

The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,/ The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, / The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, / No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

The Attic warbler pours her throat, / Responsive to the cuckoo's note.

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,The bee's collected treasures sweet, Sweet music's melting full, but sweeter yet. The still small voice of gratitude.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes / And heedless hearts, is lawful prize; / Nor all that glisters, gold.