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ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 137<br />

A nd many a holy text ar ound she strews,<br />

That teach the ru stic mora list to die.<br />

22. For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,<br />

This pleasing, an xious being, e'er resigned j<br />

Left the warm prec incts of th e cheerful day.<br />

• · 01' cast one longing, lingeri ng look behind 1<br />

23. On some fond breast the parting scul relies,<br />

Some pious drops the closing eyc requires ;<br />

E ven from the tomb the voice of Nature <strong>cr</strong>ies­<br />

E ven in our ashes live th eir wonted fires.<br />

24. For th ee, who, mindful of th e unhonoured dend,<br />

Dost in these lin es th eir artless ta le relate, ­<br />

If chance, by IonelyContemplat ion led,<br />

Some kindred spirit sha ll inquire thy fat e,<br />

25. H aply some hoary-headed swain may say,<br />

" Oft hav e we seen him at th e peep of dawn<br />

Bru shing with hasty steps th e dews away,<br />

To meet th e sun upon th e upl and la wn.<br />

26." Th ere, at th e foot of yond er nodding beech,<br />

That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,<br />

His listl ess length at noontide would he st retch,<br />

And pore upon th e brook that babbles by.<br />

2i." H ar d by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn ,<br />

)Iutteri ng his wayward fancies he would rove j<br />

• TO W drooping, woful, wan , like one forlorn,<br />

Or <strong>cr</strong>azed with care, or <strong>cr</strong>ossed in hopeless 10"0.<br />

28." One morn I missed him on th e accustomed hill,<br />

Along th e heath, and near his favourite tree ;

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