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quests; that he wants nothing of us, and is content that we should pro'sper and be at peace, because we are so di`stant from his throne? Has he not already told us that we must emb`ark in his ca'use? Has he not himself declared w'ar-forus/ against England? Will it be said, he wants not to co`nquer us, but only wishes us to be his allies? Allies of France! Is there a m'an/ who does not shu'dder at the thought? there one/ who had not rather struggle no'bly, and perish under her open-enmity, than be crushed by the embrace of her friendship,-her alliance? To show you the happiness* of her alliance, I will not carry you back to Ve'nice, Sw'itzerland, H'olland. The'ir expiring groans/ are almost forgotten amidst l'ater o'utrages. Spain, Spa'in is the al'ly/ to whom I would direct-you. Are you lovers of treachery, perfidy, rapa city, and m'assacre? Then aspire after the honour/ which Spain has fo'rfeited, and become the all'y of France.

Let me here observe, that the contrast of England with France (in point of morals and religion) is one ground of ho'pe (to the devout m'ind) in these d'ark/ and troubled tim`es. On this subject, I have heard but one'-opinion from good m'en, who have visited the two countries. The character of En gland/ is to be estimated parti'cularly from what may be called the middle class of society (the most numerous class in all nations, and more numerous and influential in En^gland/ than in any other na'tion of Europe. The w'arm pie'ty, the active bene'volence, and the independent and ma^nly thi'nking (which are found in this class) do encourage me in the belief, that England/ will not be forsaken by Go`d/ in her solemn str'uggle !+

I feel myself bound to all n'ations/ by the ties of a common nature, a common Fath`er, and a common Saviour. But/ I feel a pecu^liar-interest in England; for I believe, that ther^e/ Christianity is exerting its be'st influences on the human ch'aracter; that the re/ the perfections of human na'ture (w'isdom, vir`tue, and pi'ety) are fostered by excellent institutions, and are producing the delightful fruits of domestic ha'ppi

* 66 Happiness" here is spoken ironically, and hence pronounced with the rising circumflex.

Though the note of admiration is generally pronounced with the falling voice, yet when much pathos is expressed, as in the above beautiful example, the rising inflection will produce the more effect.

ness, social o'rder, and general prospe`rity. It is a hope. (which I could not resign without a'nguish) that the "prayers and al'ms" of En'gland "will come up for a memorial before G'od," and will obta'in for her/ his sure prot'ection/ against the co^mmon e'nemy of the civilized w`orld.

From the Sermon on the day of the Public Fast,}



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THE curfew tolls/ the kne'll of parting day;
The lowing he'rd/ winds slowly o'er the le'a;
The plow'man home'ward/ plo'ds his weary wa'y,
And leaves the wo'rld/-to dar'kness, and to m'e.
Now fades the glimm'ring lan'dscape/ on the sight,
And all the air/ a solemn stillness ho ́lds;
Save where the bee'tle/ wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tin'klings/ lull the distant fo`lds;
Save that, from yo'nder/ ivy-mantled to'wer,

The moping o'wl/ does to the moon compl'ain
Of su`ch, as wandering/ near her secret bo'wer,
Mole'st her an'cient/ soli'tary-reign.

Hark! how the sacred ca'lm/ that breathes around,
Bids every fier'ce/ tumultuous passion ce'ase;
In s'till/ small-accents/ whispering from the ground,
A grateful ear'nest/ of eternal pea'ce!

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Beneath these rugged elm's,/ that yew-tree's sh'ade,
(Where heaves the turf/ in many a mouldering he'ap,)
Ea'ch/ in his narrow c'ell/ for ever la'id,

The rude forefathers/ of the hamlet sleep.

*The observance of the casural pause (which generally occurs at the fourth, but extends sometimes to the sixth or seventh syllable) is essentially necessary to the proper reading of any poetry; but, in Gray's beautiful Elegy, it is absolutely indispensable! It occurs in the first verse at tolls," "herd," "homeward," and "world ;" and the inflections upon the whole, at the end of each line, generally correspond with those in the FIRST VERSE, as here marked.


Winding up, or

concluding tone.

The breezy c'all/ of incense-breathing mor'n,

The swallow/twittering from the straw-built sh'ed,
The cock's shrill cla'rion,/ or the echoing hor'n,

No mor'e shall rous'e-them/ from their lo^wly b ́ed.
For the'm no more/ the blazing hearth shall bur'n,
Or busy house wife/ ply her evening ca're;
No children ru'n/ to lisp' their sire's retur'n,

Or climb his knees/ the envied ki ́ss/ to shar`e.

Oft did the harvest/ to their si'ckle yiel'd;

Their furrow of't/ the stubborn glebe has broke: How jocund did they driv'e/ their team a-fie ́ld!

How bowed the w'oods/ beneath their sturdy stro`ke ! Let not ambiti`on/ mock their useful toʻil,

Their homely joy's/, and destiny obsc'ure;
Nor grandeur h'ear (with a disdainful s'mile)
The sho'rt and si^mple-annals/ of the poor.
The bo'ast of her'aldry, the po'mp of power,
And all that beauty, all that we^alth e'er gʻave,
Aw'ait, alike, the inevitable-hour :

The paths of glory-lead but to the graˇve.
Nor y'ou (ye proud) impute to the'se the fa'ult,

If me'mory/ o'er their tombs no trophies rai'se, Wh'ere (through the long-drawn ais'le and fretted v'ault) The pealing a'nthem/ swells the n'ote-of prai'se.

Can storied ur'n, or animated b'ust,

Back to its man'sion/ call the fleeting breath?
Can honour's voice/ provoke the silent d'ust,
Or flattery/ sooth the d'ull/ col`d-ear of death?
Perhaps/ in this/ neglected spot is la'id/

Some heart/ once pregnant with celestial fi're;
Han'ds/ that the rod of em'pire/ might have sway'ed,
Or waked to ec'stacy/ the li'ving-lyre :

Bu't/ knowledge to their ey'es/ her ample page,
R'ich/ with the spoils of ti'me/, did ne'er unr'oll;

Chill pe`nury/ repressed their noble rage,
And froze the genial cur'rent/ of the soul.

Full many a ge'm/ of purest ray ser ́ene,

The da'rk/ unfathomed-caves/ of ocean b'ear:


many a flower/ is born to blush unseen,
And waste its swe'etness/ on the des`ert-air.
Some village-Hampden/ that, with dauntless bre'ast,
The little tyrant of his fields/ withstood:
Some mute/ inglorious-Milton/ here may re'st:
Some Cromwell/ guiltless of his country's bloo'd.
The applause of listening se'nates/ to command,
The threats of pai'n and ru'in/ to despi'se,
To scatter plen'ty/ o'er a smiling la'nd,

And read their his'tory/ in a nation's ey'es;
Their l'ot forba'de; nor circumscribed alon`e

Their growing virtues/, but their criˇmes confin`ed;
Forbade to wade through slaughter/ to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy/ on manki`nd;
The struggling pan'gs/ of conscious truth/ to hid'e
To quench the blushes/ of ingenuous sh'ame;
Or heap the shrine of lux'ury/ and pr'ide,

With incense kin'dled/ at the m'use's fla'me.
Far from the madding crowd's/ ignoble str ́ife;
Their sober wishes/ never learned to stray;
Along the co'ol/ seques'tered-vale of l'ife

They kept the noiseless te'nor/ of their way. Yet even the'se bo'nes, (from insult to protect,) Some frail memori`al/ still erected nig'h,

With uncouth rhy'mes/ and shapeless sculpture de'cked,
Implores the passing tribute/ of a sig'h.

Their na'me, their years, (spelt by the unlet'tered m'use)
The place of fame/ and el'egy supply;
And many a holy text/ around she stre'ws,
That teach the rustic m'oralist/ to di`e.
For wh'o (to dumb Forget'fulness a pr'ey)
This plea'sing/ anxious-being e'er resign'ed,
Left the warm pre'cincts/ of the cheerful da'y,
Nor cast one lo'nging, lingering lo'ok behin'd?
On som'e/ fon'd-breast/ the parting-soul/ relie's,
Some pio'us-drops/ the clo^sing-eye req'uires;
Even from the to^'mb/ the voice of na'ture c'ries,
Even in our a^shes/ live their wo`nted fi'res.
For the^e/, wh'o (mindful of the unho'noured d'ead,)
Do'st/ in these lin`es/ their artless tale relate,

If chan'ce, (by lonely contemplation l'ed,)
Some kin`dred-spirit/ shall inquire thy fat ́e;
Ha'ply (some hoary-headed swain/ may s'ay)—
"Oft have we see'n-him/, at the peep of da'wn,
Brush'ing (with hasty ste'ps) the de'ws a'way,
"To meet the s'un/ upon the u'pland-law'n.
"The're at the foo't/ of yonder nodding beech,

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"That wreathes its o'ld/ fantastic-roots so high, "His listless length/ at noon'tide/ would he stretch, "And po're upon the bro'ok/ that babbles by. "Hard by yon wo'od, (now smiling as in sc'orn,) Muttering his wayward fan'cies/, he would ro've; "Now droo'ping, wo'ful, w'an, (like on'e forlo'rn)


"Or crazed with ca're/ or cros ́sed/ in hopˇeless love'. "One mo`rn I misse'd him/ on the accu'stomed hi'll, "Along the hea'th/, and near his favourite tr'ee/; "Another cam'e/, nor yet beside the rill',

"Nor up the law'n, nor at the wo^od/ was he':

"The next, (with dirges due, in sa'd array,)


"Slow through the church-way pa'th/ we saw him bor'ne-
Approach, and read (for thoˇu-canst-read) the la'y,
"Grav'ed on the st'one/ beneath yon a'ged tho`rn."


Here rests his hea'd/ upon the la'p of earth,
A you'th to for tune/ and to fa'me unknown.
Fair Science frow'ned not/ on his humble birth;
And Melancholy-marked-him/ for her ow^n.
Large was his bounty/, and his s'oul sincer'e;
Heaven did a re'compense/ as largely se'nd,
He gave to m'isery (a'll he had) a te'ar:

He gai`ned from He'aven ('twas a'll he wished) a frie`nd.

No farther seek his me`rits/ to disclo ́se,

Or draw his frailties/ from their dread ab ́ode,

(There they alike in trembling hope rep'ose,)

The bosom of his Father and his Go'd.

* The "Epitaph" should be read in a lower tone of voice, and in such a manner as a good reader would really employ when perusing an inscription in a church-yard.

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