The imagination of the reader is so well prepared for it by the previous lines, that it appears perfectly natural and pathetic.

Placed as Gray has placed it, neither preceded nor followed by anything that harmonises with it, it becomes a frigid conceit.

Woe to the unskilful rider who ventures on the horses of Achilles!) He leaves to others the earth, the ocean, and the sky.

His business is with man.

To other writers, evening may be the season of dews and stars and radiant clouds.