Thomas Gray

Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
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Alas! regardless of their doom,
The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day.

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.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly rising o'er the azure realm
In read more

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.

When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.

When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.