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Even if the "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" were the only poem Gray ever wrote, Gray would deserve a place of pride in the literary history books, even alongside heavy hitters like Alexander Pope.Ever lost somebody that you cared about? See Plans. Originally titled Stanzas Wrote in a Country Church-Yard, the poem was completed when Gray was living near St Giles' parish church at Stoke Poges. Next Death. 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.

Thomas Gray. Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard Themes. And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes,          Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd;          To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,          With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. The poem's origins are unknown, but it was partly inspired by Gray's thoughts following the death of the poet Richard West in 1742. With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd muse,          This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,          Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?

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

Gray’s version of an elegy is slightly different—he writes about the inevitability and hollowness of death in general, instead of mourning one person. If Mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where thro' the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault          The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Well, not to bum you out, but chances are that you will—someday. This idea of glorifying mundane, everyday things becomes central to the philosophies of British Romantics. An elegy, by strict definition, is usually a lament for the dead. There are so many unanswered questions about Thomas Gray! Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;          They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. At Eton, Gray met his BFF, Richard West (whose early death inspired the poem, "Sonnet on the Death of Richard West") and he also made friends with Horace Walpole, who grew up to write the totally awesome, completely insane But what else do we know about Gray?

He only published the "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" because, after sending a few copies to his friends for their private enjoyment, some hack publishers got hold of it and tried to print a knock-off version without his permission.

Not much, really—he wrote a lot of letters, but didn't share much personal gossip.

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,          And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;          Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap,          The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

It's a poem that managed to walk that fine line: with its moving meditations on the value of human life—even after death—it's both deeply personal and also universal.

If Shmoop had a time machine, we'd want to transport ourselves back to the late 1700s to try to get the Shmoop scoop on Gray. And waste its sweetness on the desert air. For the best experience on our site, be sure to turn on Javascript in your browser.

It's a powerful and evocative poem. Gray tended to start poems and never finish them, or else he'd finish them but never publish them. The little tyrant of his fields withstood;          Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.

Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death? By entering your email address you agree to receive emails from Shmoop and verify that you are over the age of 13.

His father went kinda crazy on occasion, and abused his mother. Some pious drops the closing eye requires;          Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. By Thomas Gray.

It's about the fear of being forgotten after you're gone.

Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight, And apparently this poem hit a chord with the eighteenth-century readers.

What made this guy tick? Classroom Solutions. Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;          How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

That's part of why Gray's "Elegy" often gets interpreted as a kind of turning point from the more formal poetry of the 18th century, with its emphasis on rich and famous people, to the more loose, free-form poetry of the Romantics, which focused more on everyday folks.The "Elegy" was probably inspired in part by Gray's sadness at the death of his friend Richard West. Lines 1-4. Still no? But that's the good thing about being a relatively well-to-do young man in the 1700s: you get sent to boarding school from a very young age, so you get to escape from the yelling and abuse at home. The "curfew" is a bell that rings at the end of the day, but a "knell" is a bell that rings when someone dies.

Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." About this Poet The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,          No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. Well, then you've probably at least experienced the loss of someone who moved far away. Gray muses about what happens after people die, and in the final stanzas of the poem, he admits his own fear of dying. Gray looks at the graves of common folks, and instead of just shrugging and figuring that their lives weren't worth remembering, he takes the time to think about what made them tick.

And when that happens, you might find Gray's "Elegy" isn't just about death, and it isn't just doom and gloom. He was offered the prestigious post of British Poet Laureate in 1757, but he turned it down. It has been translated into many different languages and reprinted many times, and different lines of the poem have been quoted so often that they almost sound cliché now.So, even if you've never experienced the loss of someone close to you, you should give the "Elegy" a shot.

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard is a Restoration Period poem by Thomas Gray. At first, the poem reflects on death in a mostly detached way, as someone who is resigned to death’s outcome. And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,          The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Not a very happy environment to grow up in!

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