Elegy written in a country church-yard . EKE Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping Owl does to the Moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,Molest her ancient solitary KV Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-trees shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye