The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . ing from her straw-built shed. The cocks shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sires return,Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield; Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:How
The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . ing from her straw-built shed. The cocks shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sires return,Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield; Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not ambition mock their useful toil,Their homely joys and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of all that beauty, all that wealth eer gave, Await alike the inevitable hour:The paths of glory lead—but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the memory oer their tomb no trophies raise. Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,The pealing anthem swells the note of STOKE POGIS CHURCH AND CHUKCHYAKI)OF GRAYS ELEGY From a ])hofo hy F. G. 0. Stuart, Southampton ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 3943 Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honors voice provoke the silent dust,Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death ? Perhaps, in this neglected spot, is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed,Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre: But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,Rich with the spoils of time, did neer unroll: Chill penury repressed their noble rage,And froze the genial current of the soul. Full many a gem of purest ray dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,And waste its sweetness
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