Thomas Gray

. . where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

. . where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

Yet ah! why should they know their fate?Since sorrow never comes too late,And happiness too swiftly flies.Thought would destroy their read more

Yet ah! why should they know their fate?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. - Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College.

Ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.

Ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.