Elegy written in a country church-yard . wa Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield ; Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;How jocund did they drive their team a-field! How bowd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke !. vsm Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,The short and simple annals of the poor.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye