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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529405" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the golden Morn aloft<br> Waves her dew-bespangled wing,<br> With vermeil cheek, and whisper soft<br> She woos the tardy Spring:<br> Till April starts, and calls around<br> The sleeping fragrance from the ground;<br> And lightly o'er the living scene<br> Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> New-born flocks, in rustic dance,<br> Frisking ply their feeble feet;<br> Forgetful of their wintry trance<br> The birds his presence greet:<br> But chief, the skylark warbles high<br> His trembling thrilling ecstasy;<br> And, lessening from the dazzled sight,<br> Melts into air and liquid light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Rise, my soul! on wings of fire,<br> Rise the rapt'rous choir among;<br> Hark! 'tis Nature strikes the lyre,<br> And leads the general song:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">... 21 Yesterday the sullen year<br> Saw the snowy whirlwind fly;<br> Mute was the music of the air,<br> The herd stood drooping by:<br> Their raptures now that wildly flow,<br> No yesterday, nor morrow know;<br> 'Tis man alone that joy descries<br> With forward, and reverted eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Smiles on past Misfortune's brow<br> Soft Reflection's hand can trace;<br> And o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw<br> A melancholy grace;<br> While Hope prolongs our happier hour<br> Or deepest shades, that dimly lower<br> And blacken round our weary way,<br> Gilds with a gleam of distant day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Still, where rosy Pleasure leads,<br> See a kindred Grief pursue;<br> Behind the steps that Misery treads,<br> Approaching Comfort view:<br> The hues of bliss more brightly glow,<br> Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe;<br> And blended form, with artful strife,<br> The strength and harmony of life.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> See the wretch, that long has tost<br> On the thorny bed of pain,<br> At length repair his vigour lost,<br> And breathe, and walk again:<br> The meanest flow'ret of the vale,<br> The simplest note that swells the gale,<br> The common sun, the air, the skies,<br> To him are opening Paradise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Humble Quiet builds her cell,<br> Near the source whence Pleasure flows;<br> She eyes the clear crystalline well,<br> And tastes it as it goes.<br>...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Gray">Thomas Gray</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529405" data-title="Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude de Thomas Gray" data-description="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 ..."></div>
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