Perhaps in this neglected fpot is laid

Some heart, once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have fway'd,
Or wak'd to extafy the living lyre.

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of Time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury reprefs'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.

Full many a gem, of purest ray ferene,
The dark unfathom❜d caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the defert air.

Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little Tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Miiton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood.

Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to defpife,
To fcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land,
And read their hift'ry in a nation's eyes,

Their lot forbad: nor circumfcrib'd alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd;
Forbad to wade through flaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,

The

The ftruggling pangs of confcious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incenfe kindled at the Mufe's flame.

• Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their fober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool fequefter'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

VARIATIONS.

The thought!efs world to Majefty may bow,
Exalt the brave, and idolize fuccefs;

But more to innocence their fafety owe,

Than Pow'r or Genius e'er confpir'd to blefs.

And thou, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd Dead,
Doft in these notes their artless tale relate,
By night and lonely contemplation led
To wander in the gloomy walks of fate:

Hark! how the facred Calm, that breathes around,
Bids every fierce tumultuous paffion ceafe;
In ftill fmall accents whifpering from the ground
A grateful earnest of eternal peace.

No more, with reafon and thyself at strife,
Give anxious cares and endless wishes room;

But through the cool fequefter'd vale of life
Pursue the filent tenor of thy doom.

And here the Poem, fays Mr. Mafon, was originally intended to con clude, before the happy idea of the hoary-headed Swain, &c. suggested itself to the Author. The third of thefe rejected ftanzas is not in ferior to any in the whole Elegy.

Yet ev❜n these bones from infult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless fculpture deck'ḍ,
Implores the passing tribute of a figh.

Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply ;

And many a holy text around fhe ftrews,
That teach the ruftic moralift to die.

For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,
This pleafing anxious being e'er refign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the chearful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind?

On fome fond breast the parting foul relies,
Some pious drops the clofing eye requires ;
Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
Ev'n in our Ashes live their wonted Fires.

Awake and faithful to her wonted fires.

"Thus (fays Mr. Mason) it flood in the first and fome following "editions, and I think rather better; for the authority of Petrarch

❝ does

For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd Dead
Doft in these lines their artlefs tale relate;
If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred Spirit shall inquire thy fate,
Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may say,
'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hafty steps the dews away,
'To meet the fun upon the upland lawne.

< There

"does not deftroy the appearance of quaintness in the other: the "thought however is rather obfcurely expreffed in both readings. He "means to fay, in plain profe, that we wish to be remembered by our "friends after our death, in the fame manner as when alive we wished ❝to be remembered by them in our abfence: this would be expreffed "clearer, if the metaphorical term fires was rejected, and the line run "thus:

"Awake and faithful to her firft defires."

In Chaucer's Reve's Prologue, v. 3880,

Yet in our afhen cold is fire yrekin.

There is, fays Mr. Tyrwhitt, fo great a resemblance between this line and the above, that I should certainly have confidered the latter as an imitation, if Mr. Gray had not referred us to the fonnet of Petrarch as his original.

VARIATION.

e On the high brow of yonder hanging lawn.

After which, in the first manuscript, followed this ftanza :

There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
"That wreathes its old fantastic roots fo high,
• His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch,
'And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

• Hard by yon wood, now fmiling as in fcorn,
"Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove:

Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
'Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.
• One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,
· Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree :
• Another came; nor yet befide the rill,
." Nor

up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he;

• The next with dirges due in fad array,

Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne, 'Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,

'Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn f.

Him have we feen the greenwood fide along,

While o'er the heath we hied, our labour done,
Oft as the woodlark pip'd her farewell song,

With wiftful eyes pursue the setting fun.

The

"I rather wonder (fays Mr. Mason) that he rejected this stanza, as "it not only has the fame fort of Doric delicacy which charms us pe"culiarly in this part of the poem, but also completes the account of "his whole day whereas, this evening scene being omitted, we have "only his morning walk and his noontide repose.”

f Between this line and the epitaph, Mr. Gray originally inferted a very beautiful ftanza, which was printed in fome of the first editions,

but