Top 15 Thomas Gray Quotes

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.

- Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
And waste its sweetness on the desert air"

A good many flowers bloom and fade away in deserted places, seen by no one.
In its context in Thomas Gray's "Elegy" it is actually a metaphor for common folk who do heroic things that are never reported in the news or recorded in history. Like a precious stone unmined at the bottom of the ocean or a beautiful flower blooming in the deep woods, their work may not be seen or known, but it is nevertheless heroic. Rubies and roses are beautiful, Gray would say, whether anyone ever sees them or not.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave
Awaits alike the inevitable hour:
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Yet, ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their Paradise.
No more; — where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.

Ignorance is bliss

A FLOWER THAT SMILES TODAY , TOMORROW DIES. ALL THAT WE WISH TO STAY, TEMPTS AND THEN FILES

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.

From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv'd,
Know one false step is ne'er retriev'd,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all, that glisters, gold.

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and Fame unknown.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,/
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,/
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,/
And leaves the world to darkness and to me./

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.