HB THOMAS GRAY 26 Dec 1716
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
To each his suff'rings: all are men,
Condemn'd alike to groan,
The tender for another's pain;
Th' unfeeling for his own.
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.
THOMAS GRAY (1716-1771) An Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College (London: R. Dodsley, 1747)
The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastised by sabler tints of woe. --- Thomas Gray, Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. Line 45.