ELEGY

i- HE Curfew tolls tlie knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way^ And leaves the ^vorld to darkness and to nie.

Now fades the gli-mmering landscape on the sight, And ail the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save ^vhere the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds.

Save tliat, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain

Of such as, wandering near lier secret bower, Molest lier ancient solitarv rei"n.

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Wliere heaves the turf in many a mouldering lieap,

Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.