{"id":479,"date":"2010-05-20T23:32:55","date_gmt":"2010-05-20T23:32:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=479"},"modified":"2017-07-11T05:19:47","modified_gmt":"2017-07-11T05:19:47","slug":"ode-on-the-spring-by-thomas-gray","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/ode-on-the-spring-by-thomas-gray\/","title":{"rendered":"Ode On The Spring by Thomas Gray"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>
Thomas Gray (1716-1771)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Ode On The Spring<\/p>\n

by Thomas Gray<\/p>\n

Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours,
\nFair Venus’ train, appear,
\nDisclose the long-expecting flowers,
\nAnd wake the purple year!
\nThe Attic warbler pours her throat,
\nResponsive to the cuckoo’s note,
\nThe untaught harmony of spring:
\nWhile, whisp’ring pleasure as they fly,
\nCool Zephyrs thro’ the clear blue sky
\nTheir gathered fragrance fling.<\/p>\n

Where’er the oak’s thick branches stretch
\nA broader browner shade,
\nWhere’er the rude and moss-grown beech
\nO’er-canopies the glade,
\nBeside some water’s rushy brink
\nWith me the Muse shall sit, and think
\n(At ease reclined in rustic state)
\nHow vain the ardour of the Crowd,
\nHow low, how little are the Proud,
\nHow indigent the Great!<\/p>\n

Still is the toiling hand of Care;
\nThe panting herds repose:
\nYet hark, how through the peopled air
\nThe busy murmur glows!
\nThe insect-youth are on the wing,
\nEager to taste the honied spring
\nAnd float amid the liquid noon:
\nSome lightly o’er the current skim,
\nSome show their gayly-gilded trim
\nQuick-glancing to the sun.<\/p>\n

To Contemplation’s sober eye
\nSuch is the race of Man:
\nAnd they that creep, and they that fly,
\nShall end where they began.
\nAlike the Busy and the Gay
\nBut flutter thro’ life’s little day,
\nIn Fortune’s varying colours drest:
\nBrushed by the hand of rough Mischance,
\nOr chilled by Age, their airy dance
\nThey leave, in dust to rest.<\/p>\n

Methinks I hear, in accents low,
\nThe sportive kind reply:
\nPoor moralist! and what art thou?
\nA solitary fly!
\nThy joys no glittering female meets,
\nNo hive hast thou of hoarded sweets,
\nNo painted plumage to display:
\nOn hasty wings thy youth is flown;
\nThy sun is set, thy spring is gone?
\nWe frolic while ’tis May.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ode On The Spring by Thomas Gray Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus’ train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo’s note, The untaught harmony of spring: While, whisp’ring pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro’ the clear blue sky Their…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[408],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-479","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nature-poems"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t