If I should die and leave you
Be not like the others, quick undone
Who keep long vigils by the silent
dust and weep.
For my sake turn to life and smile
Nerving thy heart and trembling
hand to comfort weaker souls than thee.
Complete these unfinished tasks of mine
And I perchance may therein comfort thee.
More verses by Thomas Gray
- Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude
- The Curse Upon Edward
- The Progress Of Poesy
- On The Death Of Richard West
- Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College