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The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest.
And read their history in a nation's eyes.
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
Along the cool sequestered vale of life,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
And many a holy text around she strews,
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind.
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown;
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere.
gave to misery. (all he had) a tear.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,)
The bosom of his father and his God.
Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude.
On his own Character.
To Mr. West. 3d Series. Letter iv. Now as the Paradisaical pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.
Ode in 1746.
By fairy hands their knell is rung ;
Line 28. ’T was sad by fits, by starts 't was wild.
Line 60. In notes by distance made more sweet.
Eclogue 1. Line 5. Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ; 'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.
Ode on the Death of Thomson.
Epistle to Curio. The man forget not, though in rags he lies, And know the mortal through a crown's disguise.
The Fireside. St. 3.
And they are fools who roam :
With cautious steps we'll tread.
Douglas. Act i. Sc. 1.
In the first days
Act ii. Sc. 1.
Line 1. Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow.
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
And learn the luxury of doing good.
Line 26. Some fleeting good that mocks me with the view.