Select Poems Of Thomas Gray Part 3

From hence, ye beauties, undeceiv'd, Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd, And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wandering eyes 40 And heedless hearts is lawful prize, Nor all that glisters gold.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON COLLEGE.

[Greek: Anthropos, hikane prophasis eis to dustuchein.]--MENANDER.

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the watery glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade; And ye, that from the stately brow 5 Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the h.o.a.ry Thames along His silver-winding way: 10

Ah, happy hills! ah, pleasing shade!

Ah, fields belov'd in vain!

Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain!

I feel the gales that from ye blow 15 A momentary bliss bestow, As, waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. 20

Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace; Who foremost now delight to cleave 25 With pliant arm thy gla.s.sy wave?

The captive linnet which enthrall?

What idle progeny succeed To chase the rolling circle's speed, Or urge the flying ball? 30

While some, on earnest business bent, Their murmuring labours ply 'Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty, Some bold adventurers disdain 35 The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And s.n.a.t.c.h a fearful joy. 40

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Less pleasing when possest; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The sunshine of the breast: Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, 45 Wild wit, invention ever new, And lively cheer of vigour born; The thoughtless day, the easy night, The spirits pure, the slumbers light, That fly th' approach of morn. 50

Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play; No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day: Yet see how all around 'em wait 55 The ministers of human fate, And black Misfortune's baleful train!

Ah, show them where in ambush stand To seize their prey the murtherous band!

Ah, tell them, they are men! 60

These shall the fury Pa.s.sions tear, The vultures of the mind, Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear, And Shame that skulks behind; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, 65 Or Jealousy with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the secret heart; And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visag'd comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart. 70

Ambition this shall tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, And grinning Infamy.

The stings of Falsehood those shall try, 75 And hard Unkindness' alter'd eye, That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow; And keen Remorse with blood defil'd, And moody Madness laughing wild Amid severest woe. 80

Lo! in the vale of years beneath A grisly troop are seen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their queen: This racks the joints, this fires the veins, 85 That every labouring sinew strains, Those in the deeper vitals rage: Lo! Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the soul with icy hand, And slow-consuming Age. 90

To each his sufferings: all are men, Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, Th' unfeeling for his own.

Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, 95 Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies?

Thought would destroy their paradise.

No more;--where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise. 100

[Ill.u.s.tration: SEAL OF ETON COLLEGE.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: APOLLO CITHAROEDUS. FROM THE VATICAN.]

THE PROGRESS OF POESY.

_A Pindaric Ode_.

[Greek: Phonanta sunetoisin: es De to pan hermeneon Chatizei.]--PINDAR, _Ol_. II.

I. 1.

Awake, aeolian 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, 5 Drink life and fragrance as they flow.

Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign: Now rolling down the steep amain, 10 Headlong, impetuous, see it pour; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

I. 2.

Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting sh.e.l.l! the sullen Cares 15 And frantic Pa.s.sions hear thy soft control.

On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.

Perching on the sceptred hand 20 Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king With ruffled plumes and flagging wing: Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.

I. 3.

Thee the voice, the dance, obey, 25 Temper'd to thy warbled lay.

O'er Idalia's velvet-green The rosy-crowned Loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures, 30 Frisking light in frolic measures; Now pursuing, now retreating, Now in circling troops they meet: To brisk notes in cadence beating, Glance their many-twinkling feet. 35 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay.

With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move 40 The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DELPHI AND MOUNT PARNa.s.sUS.]

II. 1.

Man's feeble race what ills await!

Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! 45 The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove.

Say, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse?

Night and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, 50 He gives to range the dreary sky; Till down the eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war.

II. 2.

In climes beyond the solar road, Where s.h.a.ggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 55 The Muse has broke the twilight gloom To cheer the shivering native's dull abode.

And oft, beneath the odorous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, 60 In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves.

Her track, where'er the G.o.ddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. 65

II. 3.

Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Isles, that crown th' aegean deep, Fields, that cool Ilissus laves, Or where Maeander's amber waves In lingering labyrinths creep, 70 How do your tuneful echoes languish, Mute, but to the voice of anguish!

Where each old poetic mountain Inspiration breath'd around; Every shade and hallow'd fountain 75 Murmur'd deep a solemn sound: Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour, Left their Parna.s.sus for the Latian plains.

Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power, And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. 80 When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, O Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.