"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" is a poem written by Thomas Gray, first published in 1751. It is considered one of the greatest and most influential English poems of the 18th century. The poem reflects on the lives and deaths of the rural poor buried in a churchyard.

The poem begins by setting the scene in a country churchyard at evening, where the speaker, presumably Gray himself, walks among the graves. 

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-He observes the simple and humble lives of the villagers buried there and contemplates their forgotten stories and potential. The speaker muses on the universal nature of death, emphasizing that even the most lowly and unknown individuals deserve to be remembered.

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-As the poem progresses, the speaker reflects on the inequalities of life, suggesting that many of those buried in the churchyard may have had untapped talents or virtues that went unrecognized in their lifetimes due to their social status. The poem explores the theme of social class and the limitations imposed by it, suggesting that the poor are often denied opportunities for advancement and recognition.

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"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-Gray also contemplates the fleeting nature of human existence, emphasizing that the rich and the poor all face the same fate in death. He suggests that a person's worth should not be determined by material wealth or social standing but by their character and inner virtues.

Towards the end of the poem, the speaker ponders his own mortality and the inevitability of his own death. He expresses a desire to be remembered by others after he is gone, hoping that his own life and achievements will not be forgotten.

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-Overall, "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" is a contemplative and melancholic poem that reflects on the themes of mortality, social inequality, and the fleeting nature of human life. It serves as a reminder to cherish and remember the lives of all individuals, regardless of their social status.

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard “Poem”

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

         The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

         And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

 

Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight,

         And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,

         And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

 

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r

         The moping owl does to the moon complain

Of such, as wand'ring near her secret bow'r,

         Molest her ancient solitary reign.

 

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,

         Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap,

Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,

         The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

 

The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,

         The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,

The cock's 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 sire's 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 bow'd 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 pow'r,

         And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,

Awaits alike th' inevitable hour.

         The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

 

Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,

         If Mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise,

Where thro' the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault

         The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.

 

Can storied urn or animated bust

         Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?

Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,

         Or Flatt'ry 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 sway'd,

         Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre.

 

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page

         Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll;

Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,

         And froze the genial current of the soul.

 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,

         The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:

Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,

         And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

 

Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast

         The little tyrant of his fields withstood;

Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,

         Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.

 

Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,

         The threats of pain and ruin to despise,

To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,

         And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes,

 

Their lot forbade: nor circumscrib'd alone

         Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd;

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,

         And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,

 

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,

         To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,

Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride

         With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.

 

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,

         Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;

Along the cool sequester'd vale of life

         They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

 

Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect,

         Some frail memorial still erected nigh,

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,

         Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

 

Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd muse,

         The place of fame and elegy supply:

And many a holy text around she strews,

         That teach the rustic moralist to die.

 

For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,

         This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,

Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,

         Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?

 

On some fond breast the parting soul relies,

         Some pious drops the closing eye requires;

Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,

         Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires.

 

For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd 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 beech

         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 craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.

 

"One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd 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 canst read) the lay,

         Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."

 

THE EPITAPH

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth

       A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.

Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,

       And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

 

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,

       Heav'n did a recompense as largely send:

He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear,

       He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) 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.

Conclusion

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray is a profound and introspective poem that reflects on the lives and deaths of the rural poor buried in a churchyard. 

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-It contemplates the universal nature of death, the inequalities of life, and the fleeting nature of human existence. The poem emphasizes the importance of remembering and cherishing the lives of all individuals, regardless of their social status. 

"Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray-Through its elegiac tone and thoughtful exploration of these themes, the poem invites readers to reflect on their own mortality and the significance of a life well-lived. "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" remains a timeless piece of literature that continues to resonate with readers, inviting them to ponder the mysteries of life and death.

FAQ.

Q. Who is the author of "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard"?

Ans. The poem was written by Thomas Gray, an English poet and scholar.

Q. When was the poem published?

Ans. The poem was first published in 1751.

Q. What is the poem about?

Ans. The poem reflects on the lives and deaths of the rural poor buried in a churchyard. It contemplates themes of mortality, social inequality, and the fleeting nature of human existence. The speaker muses on the forgotten stories and potential of the individuals buried there and emphasizes the importance of remembering and cherishing all lives.

Q. What is the tone of the poem?

Ans. The poem has an elegiac tone, meaning it is mournful, reflective, and contemplative.

Q. What are the main themes of the poem?

Ans. The main themes of the poem include mortality, social class and inequality, the value of individual lives, the passage of time, and the universal nature of death.

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