Thomas Gray

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
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Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.

Tho' he inherit
Not the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
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Tho' he inherit
Not the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion
Thro' the azure deep of air.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.

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.

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.