24 Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who mindful of th' unhonoured Dead
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate,
If chance, by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
'Brushing with hasty steps the dews away
'To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

"There at the foot of yonder nodding beach, 'That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, 'His listless length at noontide would he stretch, 'And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

'Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 'Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove, 'Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,

'Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.

'One morn I missed him on the customed hill,
'Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree;
'Another came; nor yet beside the rill,

'Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;

"The next with dirges due in sad array

'Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne.

'Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay,

'Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard 25

The Epitaph

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heav'n did a recompence as largely send;
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,

He gained from Heav'n ('twas all he wished) a friend.

No farther seek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God.

THOMAS GRAY.

ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF

ETON COLLEGE

From the north terrace of Windsor Castle the traveler may look out over one of the many beautiful countrysides to be found along the Thames. Half a mile away on the other side of the river, beyond the roofs of the little city, is Eton College, best known of all English schools.

We can see little of the school, but among the fine mellow red brick buildings the stately chapel stands out.

On our excursion to or from Windsor we should stop for a while at the school and wander about the quadrangles and through the classrooms now covered with the names of over 15,000 boys. The name of Shelley is there but it is to another poet we turn for a description of the panorama before

us.

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the watry glade,
Where grateful Science still adores

Her Henry's holy Shade;

And ye, that from the stately brow

Of Windsor's heights the expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,

Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along

His silver-winding way.

Ah happy hills, ah pleasing shade,
Ah fields beloved in vain,

Where once my careless childhood strayed,

A stranger yet to pain!

I feel the gales that from ye blow,

A momentary bliss bestow,

As waving fresh their gladsome wing
My weary soul they seem to soothe,
And, redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.

Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College 27

Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen
Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margent green
The paths of pleasure trace,
Who foremost now delight to cleave
With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?
The captive linnet which enthrall?
What idle progeny succeed
To chase the rolling circle's speed
Or urge the flying ball?

While some on earnest business bent
Their murmuring labours ply

'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint
To sweeten liberty;

Some bold adventurers disdain

The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry; Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possesst;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast;
Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever-new,
And lively cheer of vigour born;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly th' approach of morn.

28 Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College

Alas, regardless of their doom,
The little victims play!

No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day:

Yet see how all around 'em wait

The Ministers of human fate,

The black Misfortune's baleful train!

Ah, show them where in ambush stand, To seize their prey, the murtherous band! Ah, tell them, they are men!

These shall the fury Passions tear,
The vultures of the mind,
Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear,

And Shame that sculks behind;
Or pining Love shall waste their youth,
Or Jealousy with rankling tooth,
That inly gnaws the secret heart,
And Envy wan, and faded Care,
Grim-visaged comfortless Despair,
And Sorrow's piercing dart.

Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
Then whirl the wretch from high,
To bitter Scorn a sacrifice
And grinning Infamy.

The stings of Falsehood those shall try,
And hard Unkindness' altered eye,
That mocks the tear it forced to flow;
And keen Remorse with blood defiled,
And moody Madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.