ELEGY
I.
AH
stay
!
—
thy
wand
oblivious
o'er
my
eyes
Yet
wave
,
mild
power
of
sleep
!
—
my
prayer
is
vain
;
She
flies
,
the
partial
nurse
of
nature
flies
,
With
all
her
soothing
visionary
train
.
Then
let
me
forth
;
and
near
yon
flowering
thorn
Taste
heaven's
pure
breath
;
while
rob'd
in
amber
vest
,
Fresh
from
her
watery
couch
,
the
youthful
morn
Steals
on
the
slumbers
of
the
drowsy
east
.
Lo
,
at
her
presence
,
the
strong
arm
of
toil
,
With
glittering
sickle
,
mows
the
prime
of
May
;
While
yon
poor
hirelings
,
for
the
mine's
rude
soil
,
Leave
to
their
sleeping
babes
their
cots
of
clay
.
With
sturdy
step
,
they
cheerly
whistle
o'er
The
path
that
flings
across
the
reedy
plain
;
To
the
deep
caverns
of
that
yawning
moor
,
Whose
shaggy
breast
abhors
the
golden
grain
.
There
,
in
her
green
dress
,
nature
never
roves
,
Spreads
the
gay
lawn
,
nor
lifts
the
lordly
pine
,
They
see
no
melting
clouds
refresh
the
groves
,
No
living
landscape
drawn
by
hands
divine
.
But
many
a
fathom
from
the
sunny
breeze
,
Their
painful
way
in
central
night
they
wear
;
Heave
the
pik'd
axes
on
their
bended
knees
,
Or
sidelong
the
rough
quarry
slowly
tear
.
Yet
while
damp
vapours
chill
each
reeking
brow
,
How
loudly
laughs
the
jovial
voice
of
mirth
;
Pleas'd
that
the
wages
of
the
day
allow
A
social
blaze
to
chear
their
evening
hearth
.
There
the
chaste
housewife
,
with
maternal
care
,
Her
thrifty
distaff
plies
,
in
grave
attire
;
Blest
to
behold
her
ruddy
offspring
wear
The
full
resemblance
of
their
sturdy
fire
.
To
spread
with
such
coarse
fare
their
homely
board
As
fits
the
genius
of
their
little
fate
,
Free
from
those
ills
that
haunt
their
pamper'd
lord
;
To
be
unhappy
we
must
first
be
great
.
In
these
dark
caves
,
where
heaven's
paternal
hand
,
Far
from
the
world
,
their
private
cradle
laid
,
They
toil
secure
;
the
storms
that
strike
the
land
With
wild
dismay
roll
harmless
o'er
their
head
.
For
who
,
the
load
of
weary
life
to
bear
,
Wou'd
from
these
murky
mansions
chace
the
slave
?
Who
cease
to
breathe
heaven's
pure
and
chearful
air
,
To
be
but
living
tenants
of
the
grave
?
Yet
harrass'd
as
they
are
,
their
face
still
wears
The
reverend
comeliness
of
green
old
age
;
No
stains
their
mind
from
worldly
science
bears
;
Their
ray
of
knowledge
gleams
from
nature's
page
.
The
few
plain
rules
her
simple
lessons
give
,
They
still
thro'
life
with
pleas'd
attention
ply
;
Their
helpless
offspring
bid
them
wish
to
live
,
Their
breathless
parents
bid
them
learn
to
die
.
And
surely
heaven
whose
penetrating
sight
Pierces
the
soul
,
and
reads
its
inmost
groan
,
Must
see
content
,
with
more
sincere
delight
,
Toil
in
the
mine
,
than
triumph
on
the
throne
;
See
Charles
V.
of
Spain
,
who
in
the
full
blaze
of
his
glory
resigned
the
throne
to
his
son
Philip
,
and
retired
to
a
convent
in
Estremadura
.
Charles
,
more
pleas'd
,
within
the
convent's
gloom
,
Seeking
the
slave's
calm
nights
,
their
temperate
days
,
And
peaceful
passage
to
the
private
tomb
,
Than
diadem'd
with
glory's
crimson
rays
.
Ev'n
the
proud
sage
,
whose
deep
mysterious
brain
Has
reason'd
all
the
balm
of
hope
away
,
Convinc'd
that
learning's
but
ingenious
pain
,
Might
hail
their
happier
lot
,
and
sighing
say
,
"
Oh
had
I
thus
,
within
the
dark
profound
,
"
By
daily
labor
earn'd
my
daily
food
;
"
Or
with
yon
seedman
sow'd
the
quickening
ground
,
"
Or
cleav'd
with
ponderous
axe
the
groaning
wood
.
"
Full
many
an
hour
that
now
,
tho'
sped
with
art
,
"
On
slow
and
dusky
pinions
sullen
flies
,
"
Full
many
an
anxious
wish
,
or
pang
of
heart
,
"
That
reason's
boasted
anodyne
defies
,
"
Had
ne'er
been
born
.
Nor
had
th'
uneasy
mind
,
"
Pent
in
the
prison
of
this
mortal
mould
,
"
Felt
its
etherial
energy
confin'd
,
"
Its
brightest
sunshine
in
dark
clouds
enroll'd
,
"
But
native
sense
her
modest
course
had
run
;
"
Her
saintly
lustre
untaught
virtue
spread
;
"
Health
crown'd
my
toils
,
and
e'er
the
day
was
done
,
"
Sound
sleep
beneath
some
alder's
rustling
shade
.
"
Then
,
as
I
stole
down
life's
declining
hill
,
"
Here
nature's
gifts
had
furnish'd
nature's
needs
,
"
The
brook's
cold
beverage
every
latent
ill
"
Had
starv'd
,
that
cloyster'd
contemplation
feeds
.
"
Till
,
in
the
peaceful
shade
of
this
lone
bower
,
"
Or
near
yon
shattered
tower
in
silence
laid
,
"
The
orient
orb
,
that
watch'd
my
natal
hour
,
"
Had
brightly
glitter'd
o'er
my
mouldering
head
.
"