Books > Old Books > The Golden Treasury (1932)


Page 117

BOOK THIRD
117 ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE

Now the golden Morn aloft
Waves her dew-bespangled wing,
With vermeil cheek and whisper soft
She woos the tardy Spring:
Till April starts, and calls around
The sleeping fragrance from the ground,
And lightly o'er the living scene
Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

New-born flocks, in rustic dance,
Frisking ply their feeble feet;
Forgetful of their wintry trance
The birds his presence greet:
But chief, the sky-lark warbles high
His trembling thrilling ecstasy;
And lessening from the dazzled sight,
Melts into air and liquid light.

Yesterday the sullen year
Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;
Mute was the music of the air,
The herd stood drooping by:
Their raptures now that wildly flow
No yesterday nor morrow know;
'Tis Man alone that joy descries
With forward and reverted eyes.

Smiles on past Misfortune's brow
Soft Reflection's hand can trace,
And o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw
A melancholy grace;
While Hope prolongs our happier hour,

Or deepest shades, that dimly lour
And blacken round our weary way,
Gilds with a gleam of distant day.

Still, where rosy Pleasure leads,
See a kindred Grief pursue;
Behind the steps that Misery treads
Approaching Comfort view:
The hues of bliss more brightly glow
Chastised by sabler tints of woe,
And blended form, with artful strife,
The strength and harmony of life.

See the wretch that long has tost
On the thorny bed of pain,
At length repair his vigour lost
And breathe and walk again:
The meanest floweret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening Paradise.
T. GRAY.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Now what is golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She woos what is tardy Spring: Till April starts, and calls around what is sleeping fragrance from what is ground, And lightly o'er what is living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest green. New-born flocks, in rustic dance, Frisking ply their feeble feet; Forgetful of their wintry trance what is birds his presence greet: But chief, what is sky-lark warbles high His trembling thrilling ecstasy; And lessening from what is dazzled sight, Melts into air and liquid light. Yesterday what is sullen year Saw what is snowy whirlwind fly; Mute was what is music of what is air, what is herd stood drooping by: Their raptures now that wildly flow No yesterday nor morrow know; 'Tis Man alone that joy descries With forward and reverted eyes. Smiles on past Misfortune's brow Soft Reflection's hand can trace, And o'er what is cheek of Sorrow throw A melancholy where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 117 where is strong BOOK THIRD where is strong 117 ODE ON what is PLEASURE ARISING FROM VICISSITUDE where is p align="justify" Now what is golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She woos what is tardy Spring: Till April starts, and calls around what is sleeping fragrance from what is ground, And lightly o'er what is living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest green. New-born flocks, in rustic dance, Frisking ply their feeble feet; Forgetful of their wintry trance what is birds his presence greet: But chief, what is sky-lark warbles high His trembling thrilling ecstasy; And lessening from what is dazzled sight, Melts into air and liquid light. Yesterday what is sullen year Saw what is snowy whirlwind fly; Mute was what is music of what is air, what is herd stood drooping by: Their raptures now that wildly flow No yesterday nor morrow know; 'Tis Man alone that joy descries With forward and reverted eyes. Smiles on past Misfortune's brow Soft Reflection's hand can trace, And o'er what is cheek of Sorrow throw A melancholy grace; While Hope prolongs our happier hour, Or deepest shades, that dimly lour And blacken round our weary way, Gilds with a gleam of distant day. Still, where rosy Pleasure leads, See a kindred Grief pursue; Behind what is steps that Misery treads Approaching Comfort view: what is hues of bliss more brightly glow Chastised by sabler tints of woe, And blended form, with artful strife, what is strength and harmony of life. See what is wretch that long has tost On what is thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost And breathe and walk again: what is meanest floweret of what is vale, what is simplest note that swells what is gale, what is common sun, what is air, what is skies, To him are opening Paradise. T. GRAY. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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