Horace Walpole to Thomas Gray (<hi rend="it">c.</hi> 3 January 1763) Alexander Huber Editor Thomas Gray Archive
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 UK Cambridge Pembroke College, Cambridge College Library Class No. LC II, 90, no. 88

The original letter is extant and usually available for academic research purposes

 The Yale Edition of Horace Walpole's Correspondence. Ed. by W. S. Lewis. New Haven, Conn.: Yale UP; London: Oxford UP, 1937-83, vols. 13/14: Horace Walpole's Correspondence with Thomas Gray, Richard West and Thomas Ashton i, 1734-42, Horace Walpole's Correspondence with Thomas Gray ii, 1745-71, ed. by W. S. Lewis, George L. Lam and Charles H. Bennett, 1948, vol. ii, 123-124 https://libsvcs-1.its.yale.edu/hwcorrespondence/page.asp?vol=14&page=123 Walpole, Horace, 1717-1797 London, United Kingdom Gray, Thomas, 1716-1771 Durham, United Kingdom

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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.

 Library of Congress Name Authority File (LCNAF) Portrait of Lord Granville

Commanding beauty, smoothed by cheerful grace, Sat on each opening feature of his face: Bold was his language, rapid, glowing, strong; And science flowed spontaneous from his tongue. With genius, seizing systems, slighting rules, And, void of gall, with boundless scorn of fools. Ambition dealt her flambeau to his hand, And Bacchus aided to illume the brand. His wish, to counsel monarchs or control; His means?—th' impetuous ardour of his soul; For Prudence, daring not to eye his aim, Lent not a pop-gun to bring down the game. Swift too the scaffold of his airy pride Fell—but slight-built, diffused no ruin wide. Unhurt, undaunted, undisturbed, he fell; Could laugh the same, and the same stories tell: And more a sage than he, who bade await His revels, till his conquests were complete, Our jovial statesman either sail unfurled, And drank his bottle, though he missed the world.