Thomas Gray

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How read more

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 bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave read more

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery (all he had) a tear,
He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race;
Give ample room and read more

Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race;
Give ample room and verge enough
The characters of Hell to trace.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The read more

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

. . where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

. . where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.