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poet

Thomas Gray

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poem
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.

Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
    The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the
poem
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,  
  The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,  
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,  
  And leaves the world to darkness and to me.  
  
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,           
  And all the air a solemn stillness holds,  
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