Quote#Nature
One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill
Quote byThomas Gray · 1716–1771
Commonly attributed — not confirmed in an authoritative edition. Cited on Wikiquote to: Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard (written 1750, publ. 1751), St. 28.
English (original)
One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree: Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.
— Thomas Gray
More from Thomas Gray
Where his glowing eye−balls turn, Thousand banners round him burn. Where he points his purple spear, Hasty, hasty Rout is there, Marking with indignant eye Fear to stop and shame to fly.
In glittering arms and glory dressed, High he rears his ruby crest. There the thundering strokes begin, There the press and there the din; Talymalfra's rocky shore Echoing to the battle's roar.
Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour The bad affright, afflict the best!
'Twas Spring, 'twas Summer, all was gay Now Autumn bears a cloud brow The flowers of Spring are swept way And Summer fruits desert the bough.
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learned to melt at others' woe.
Now my weary lips I close; Leave me, leave me to repose!