Thomas Gray to Richard West (<hi rend="it">before</hi> 24 May 1736) Alexander Huber Editor Thomas Gray Archive
info@thomasgray.org https://www.thomasgray.org/
Oxford

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The original letter is unlocated, a copy, transcription, or published version survives

 Correspondence of Thomas Gray, 3 vols. Ed. by the late Paget Toynbee and Leonard Whibley, with corrections and additions by H. W. Starr. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971 [1st ed. 1935], letter no. 22**, vol. i, 41-42 http://www.e-enlightenment.com/search/letters/print/?printref_sourceedition=graythOU0084&printref_docnumber=22** The Poems of Mr. Gray. To which are prefixed Memoirs of his Life and Writings by W[illiam]. Mason. York: printed by A. Ward; and sold by J. Dodsley, London; and J. Todd, York, 1775, section i, 8-10 https://www.thomasgray.org/texts/diglib/primary/1775/1/8 Gray, Thomas, 1716-1771 Cambridge, United Kingdom West, Richard, 1716-1742 Oxford, United Kingdom

Julian

 English Statius

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This letter is part of the correspondence calendar of the complete correspondence of Thomas Gray. The calendar contains detailed bibliographic records for all known original, copied, or published letters written by or to the poet as well as the full-text, where available. Each record is accompanied by digitised images of the manuscript, where available, or digitised images of the first printed edition.

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I send you my translation, which I did not engage in because I liked that part of the Poem, nor do I now send it to you because I think it deserves it, but merely to show you how I misspend my days.

Third in the labours of the Disc came on, With sturdy step and slow, Hippomedon; Artful and strong he pois'd the well-known weight, By Phlegyas warn'd, and fir'd by Mnestheus' fate, That to avoid, and this to emulate. His vigorous arm he try'd before he flung, Brac'd all his nerves, and every sinew strung; Then with a tempest's whirl and wary eye, Pursu'd his cast, and hurl'd the orb on high; The orb on high tenacious of its course, True to the mighty arm that gave it force, Far overleaps all bound, and joys to see Its antient lord secure of victory. The theatre's green height and woody wall Tremble ere it precipitates its fall, The ponderous mass sinks in the cleaving ground, While vales and woods and echoing hills rebound. As when from Ætna's smoaking summit broke, The eyeless Cyclops heav'd the craggy rock; Where Ocean frets beneath the dashing oar, And parting surges round the vessel roar; 'Twas there he aim'd the meditated harm, And scarce Ulysses scap'd his giant arm. A tyger's pride the victor bore away, With native spots and artful labour gay, A Shining border round the margin roll'd, And calm'd the terrors of his claws in gold.