Thomas Gray

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight!
Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.

Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters read more

Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters gold.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
The read more

There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
The Redbreast loves to build and warble there,
And little Footsteps lightly print the ground.