Thomas Gray

Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race;
Give ample room and read more

Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race;
Give ample room and verge enough
The characters of Hell to trace.

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.

Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.

Chill penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.

Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune,
He had not the method of making a fortune.

Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune,
He had not the method of making a fortune.

To each his suff'rings; all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan;
The tender for another's pain,
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To each his suff'rings; 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,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.