Selections from Five English Poets eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 100 pages of information about Selections from Five English Poets.

Selections from Five English Poets eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 100 pages of information about Selections from Five English Poets.

  Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow’r
    The moping owl does to the moon complain 10
  Of such, as wand’ring near her secret bow’r,
    Molest her ancient solitary reign.

  Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree’s shade,
    Where heaves the turf in many a mould’ring heap,
  Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, 15
    The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

  The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,[2]
    The swallow twitt’ring from the straw-built shed,
  The cock’s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
    No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 20

  For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
    Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
  No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
    Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

  Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, 25
    Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe[3] has broke;
  How jocund did they drive their team afield! 
    How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

  Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
    Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; 30
  Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
    The short and simple annals of the poor.

  The boast of heraldry,[4] the pomp of pow’r,
    And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
  Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour. 35
    The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

  Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault,
    If Mem’ry o’er their tomb no trophies raise,
  Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault[5]
    The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 40

  Can storied urn[6] or animated[7] bust
    Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? 
  Can Honour’s voice provoke[8] the silent dust,
    Or Flatt’ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death?

  Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 45
    Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
  Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,
    Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.

  But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page
    Rich with the spoils of time did ne’er unroll; 50
  Chill Penury repressed their noble rage,
    And froze the genial current of the soul.

  Full many a gem of purest ray serene[9]
    The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: 
  Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 55
    And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

  Some village-Hampden,[10] that with dauntless breast,
    The little Tyrant of his fields withstood,
  Some mute inglorious Milton[11] here may rest,
    Some Cromwell[12] guiltless of his country’s blood. 60

  Th’ applause of list’ning senates to command,
    The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
  To scatter plenty o’er a smiling land,
    And read their hist’ry in a nation’s eyes,

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Selections from Five English Poets from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.