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?

Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 8...
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....
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 20...
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 5...
And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 21...
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 25...
Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 4...
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 23...
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
-- Thomas Gray (1716-1771) -- Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 17...