Nor yet quite deserted though lonely extended, How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded, Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming, In the proudly-arched chapel the banners are beaming, Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head, like the meek mountain lamb, And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying, Walter Scott. (1) Mute favourite-a terrier, which for three months guarded the dead body of her master. (2) Requiem-from the Latin requies, rest-strictly a mass for the dead, which begins with the words "Requiem æternam." It is used here with some latitude for, funeral service. (3) Scutcheon-from the Latin scutum, a shield-originally the actual shield worn in battle, on which, for the sake of distinction, various devices were engraven; hence it signifies any field or ground on which are blazoned the armorial bearings of a family. (4) Desert-for deserted, lonely. (5) Obsequies-funeral-A common interment is a funeral: obsequies are pompous funeral ceremonies, with processions, &c. To "sing obsequies" is scarcely a correct expression, even allowing for poetic licence. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.1 THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, Save, that from yonder ivy-mantled tower, Beneath those rugged elms,7 that yew-tree's shade, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. (1) This well-known poem is perhaps unequalled for the skill with which the pathetic and the picturesque are combined, to excite our interest in the "simple annals of the poor." The language, too, is eminently tasteful and expressive, and furnishes a rich store of those apt quotations which-like snatches of some favourite air-touch the heart with a momentary, yet most exquisite pleasure. The "country churchyard" is said to be that of Stoke Pogeis, in Buckinghamshire, the scenery in and around which harmonizes well with that described in the poem. Gray spent much of his early life in the neighbourhood of this village, and here too he was buried. (2) Curfew-the "curfew" here simply means any bell-time indefinitesounding in the evening, and fancifully considered as announcing the death of the day. (3) Lea-from the Anglo-Saxon leag, laid land-land that lies untilled-a meadow or pasture. Lea is connected with ley, leigh, and legh, which are found in proper names, as Elmsley, Stoneleigh, &c. (4) Darkness-not absolute darkness, but the shade of evening in contrast with the brightness of day. If taken strictly, it would be inconsistent with "fades" and "glimmering" in the second stanza, and "moon" in the third. (5) Holds-i. e. the stillness holds or fills all the air. (6) Bower-from the Anglo-Saxon bur, a retired apartment-any place of retirement; hence a lady's bower is her own private room. (7) Beneath, &c.-With this stanza, after the prelude of the three preceding, which are purely descriptive, that human interest is infused into the poem, which pervades it henceforth to its close. The breezy call' of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,2 No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.3 For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or climb his knees the envied kiss 5 to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys and destiny obscure; [The thoughtless" world to majesty may bow, Than power or genius e'er conspired to bless.] (1) Breezy call, &c.-A beautiful stanza, though perhaps slightly marred by the echoing sounds of "breezy" and "breathing." A similar fault occurs in the last stanza, "heaves " and "heap." (2) The straw-built shed-i. e. the shed or shade formed by the projecting thatch. (3) Lowly bed-of course the actual bed is meant, but the expression has been mistaken for the bed of death, the grave. (4) Run-run home to tell the news. (5) Envied kiss, &c.-It is impossible not to quote here the beautiful lines of Lucretius (iv. 907), which probably suggested the above passage:- "At jam non domus accipiet te læta, neque uxor Optima, nec dulces occurrent oscula nati Præripere!" How pretty is "oscula præripere," to snatch the first kiss! (6) Oft did, &c.-Each line of this stanza aptly describes a class of agricultural labourers the reapers, the ploughmen, &c. (7) The thoughtless, &c.-This and the other stanzas enclosed in brackets are taken from the early editions, or from the MS. left by Gray. They are much too beautiful to be either lost or banished, and the present editor has therefore ventured to find a place for them. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud! impute to these1 the fault, Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; But knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Chill penury repressed their noble rage,5 6 Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: (1) Impute to these, &c.-i. e. do not suppose that these poor men do not deserve "trophies" as well as you. (2) Storied-embossed with figures, or bearing an inscription relating to the story or history of the deceased. Milton, in "Il Penseroso" (see p. 310), has "And storied windows, richly dight, Casting a dim religious light." (3) Provoke-from the Latin provoco, I challenge or call forth; here, call back again to life. (4) Rich with, &c.-containing the riches which time, like a conqueror, has gathered together. A noble expression ! (5) Rage-ardour, enthusiasm. This use of the word was once common. Thus Pope writes: "So just thy skill, so regular my rage." (6) Dr. Thomas Brown considers the reference to "gems" of the ocean inconsistent with the other illustrations of the poem, which are all drawn with great taste from rural scenes and circumstances. Full many a flower1 is born to blush unseen, Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, The applause of listening senates to command, And read their history in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade nor circumscribed alone The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, With incense kindled at the muse's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife- They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. [Hark! how the sacred calm that breathes around (1) Many a flower, &c.-Every word here seems the choicest possible, and the conception, so beautiful in itself, thus appears invested with a double charm. (2) Read their history, &c.-Remarkable for the fulness of meaning condensed into a few words. (3) The struggling pangs, &c.-It has been justly observed that this stanza rather weakens than increases the interest excited by the last, and comes in laggingly after that sonorous couplet, "Forbade to wade, &c.," which certainly ought to have closed the passage. The sense is-Their lot forbade their learning those mean arts by which men rise, as it is called, in the world, and which too frequently involve the abandonment of truth and honour. (4) Far from, &c.-i. e. living far from the influence of the "ignoble strife," their wishes never strayed towards it. The "far from," has, of course, no grammatical connexion with "stray." |