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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529413" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Progress of Poesy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake,<br>And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.<br>From Helicon's harmonious springs<br>A thousand rills their mazy progress take:<br>The laughing flowers that round them blow<br>Drink life and fragrance as they flow.<br>Now the rich stream of Music winds along,<br>Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,<br>Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign;<br>Now rolling down the steep amain,<br>Headlong, impetuous, see it pour;<br>The rocks and nodding groves re-bellow to the roar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! Sov'reign of the willing soul,<br>Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,<br>Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares<br>And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.<br>On Thracia's hills the Lord of War<br>Has curbed the fury of his car,<br>And dropt his thirsty lance at thy command.<br>Perching on the sceptred hand<br>Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathered king<br>With ruffled plumes and flagging wing:<br>Quenched in dark clouds of slumber lie<br>The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thee the voice, the dance, obey,<br>Tempered to thy warbled lay.<br>O'er Idalia's velvet-green<br>The rosy-crowned Loves are seen<br>On Cytherea's day,<br>With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures,<br>Frisking light in frolic measures;<br>Now pursuing, now retreating,<br>Now in circling troops they meet:<br>To brisk notes in cadence beating<br>Glance their many-twinkling feet.<br>Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare:<br>Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay.<br>With arms sublime that float upon the air<br>In gliding state she wins her easy way:<br>O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move<br>The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man's feeble race what ills await!<br>Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain,<br>Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,<br>And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!<br>The fond complaint, my song, disprove,<br>And justify the laws of Jove.<br>Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse?<br>Night and all her sickly dews,<br>Her sceptres wan, and birds of boding cry,<br>He gives to range the dreary sky;<br>Till down the eastern cliffs afar<br>Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In climes beyond the solar road,<br>Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam,<br>The Muse has broke the twilight gloom<br>To cheer the shivering Native's dull abode.<br>And oft, beneath the od'rous shade<br>Of Chili's boundless forests laid,<br>She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat,<br>In loose numbers wildly sweet,<br>Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves.<br>Her track, where'er the Goddess roves,<br>Glory pursue, and gen'rous Shame,<br>Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,<br>Isles, that crown th' Aegean deep,<br>Fields that cool Ilissus laves,<br>Or where Maeander's amber waves<br>In lingering lab'rinths creep,<br>How do your tuneful echoes languish,<br>Mute, but to the voice of anguish!<br>Where each old poetic mountain<br>Inspiration breathed around;<br>Ev'ry shade and hallowed fountain<br>Murmured deep a solemn sound:<br>Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour,<br>Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains.<br>Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power,<br>And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.<br>When Latium had her lofty spirit lost,<br>They sought, Oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far from the sun and summer-gale,<br>In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid,<br>What time, where lucid Avon strayed,<br>To him the mighty mother did unveil<br>Her awful face: the dauntless child<br>Stretched forth his little arms, and smiled.<br>&quot;This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear<br>Richly paint the vernal year:<br>Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy!<br>This can unlock the gates of Joy;<br>Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears,<br>Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor second he, that rode sublime<br>Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy,<br>The secrets of th' Abyss to spy.<br>He passed the flaming bounds of place and time:<br>The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze,<br>Where Angels tremble while they gaze,<br>He saw; but, blasted with excess of light,<br>Closed his eyes in endless night.<br>Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car<br>Wide o'er the fields of glory bear<br>Two coursers of ethereal race,<br>With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark, his hands the lyre explore!<br>Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er,<br>Scatters from her pictured urn<br>Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.<br>But ah! 'tis heard no more - <br>Oh! Lyre divine, what daring Spirit<br>Wakes thee now? Though he inherit<br>Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,<br>That the Theban eagle bear,<br>Sailing with supreme dominion<br>Through the azure deep of air:<br>Yet oft before his infant eyes would run<br>Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray,<br>With orient hues, unborrowed of the Sun:<br>Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way<br>Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,<br>Beneath the Good how far -but far above the Great.</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=529413" data-title="The Progress of Poesy de Thomas Gray" data-description="Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.
From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
The laughing flowers that round them blow
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich s..."></div>
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