University of Virginia Library


153

XXVIII. THE CHURCH-YARD.

As by the Church-yard yew my evening way
I take, and meditate the sacred muse,
To catch thy notes my ears unbidden use,
Sweet Elegist, sublimely solemn Gray!
Yet ah! thy pensive moralising lay
Were to my heart more grateful, if thy views,
Profusely rich in earth's autumnal hues,
Show'd more of heaven's enlivening vernal day.
“The paths of glory lead but to the grave”—
Lo, from the grave fresh paths of glory rise!
Reviving thence the “flower” shall breathe and wave
With purer sweetness and with lovelier dyes;
And the bright “gem,” releas'd from ocean's cave,
Adorn with sun-like ray its kindred skies.