to behold a blessed vision, and his voice is strengthened thus to sing-

"On the pale cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending,
And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."

Nevertheless, had Gray been known, not for his scholarship, not for his taste, not for his letters and minor poems, not for his reputed powers and unrivalled accomplishments, but solely for this elegy-had this only and his name survived, this alone would have entitled him to rank with Britain's best poets

GRAY'S POEMS.

ODES.

I. ON THE SPRING.

1 Lo where the rosy-bosom'd 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, whispering pleasure as they fly,
Cool Zephyrs through the clear blue sky
Their gather'd fragrance fling.

2 Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade,

Where'er the rude and moss-grown becch
O'ercanopies the glade,

Beside some water's rushy brink

With me the Muse shall sit, and think

(At ease reclined in rustic state)

How vain the ardour of the crowd,
How low, how little, are the proud,
How indigent the great!

L

3 Still is the toiling hand of Care; The panting herds repose :

Yet hark! how through the peopled air
The busy murmur glows!

The insect youth are on the wing,
Eager to taste the honied spring,

And float amid the liquid ncon;
Some lightly o'er the current skim,
Some show their gaily gilded trim,
Quick glancing to the sun.

4 To Contemplation's sober eye,
Such is the race of Man,

And they that creep, and they that fly,
Shall end where they began.
Alike the busy and the gay
But flutter through life's little day,

In Fortune's varying colours dress'd;
Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance,
Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance
They leave, in dust to rest.

5 Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind reply,

Poor Moralist! and what art thou?

A solitary fly!

Thy joys no glittering female meets,
No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets,
No painted plumage to display:
On hasty wings thy youth is flown,
Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone-
We frolic while 'tis May.

II. ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT,

DROWNED IN A CHINA TUB OF GOLD FISHES.

1 'TWAS on a lofty vase's side,

Where China's gayest art had dyed

The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.

2 Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws;

Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw, and purr'd applause.

3 Still had she gazed, but, 'midst the tide,
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream;
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue,
Through richest purple, to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.

4 The hapless nymph with wonder saw;
A whisker first, and then a claw,

With many an ardent wish,

She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise ?
What cat's averse to fish?

5 Presumptuous maid! with looks intent,
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,

Nor knew the gulf between :
(Maligant Fate sat by and smiled,)
The slipp'ry verge her feet beguiled ;
She tumbled headlong in.

6 Eight times emerging from the flood,
She mew'd to every watery god
Some speedy aid to send.

No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd,
Nor cruel Tom or Susan heard.
A fav'rite has no friend!

7 From hence, ye beauties! undeceived,
Know one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes,
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
Nor all that glisters gold.

III. ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF ETON

COLLEGE.

Ανθρωπος· ἱκανὴ πρόφασις εις τὸ δυστυχεῖν.

MENANDER

1 YE distant spires! ye antique towers!

That crown the watery glade

Where grateful Science still adores

Her Henry's1 holy shade;

And

ye that from the stately brow
Of Windsor's heights the expanse below

14 Henry:' King Henry VI., founder of the College.