By Thomas Gray
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Explanation:
As evening falls, the bell signals the end of the day. Cows walk slowly over the field, and the tired farmer heads home. The speaker is left alone in the growing darkness, setting a quiet and reflective mood.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:
Explanation:
The landscape slowly disappears in the dimming light. Silence fills the air, broken only by a beetle’s buzzing and the soft sounds of sheep bells in the distance. The stillness adds to the feeling of peace and solitude.
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Explanation:
An owl hoots from an old, ivy-covered tower. It complains about people intruding near its lonely home. The imagery enhances the quiet, rural setting and sense of mystery.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree’s shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Explanation:
The graves under the elm and yew trees belong to the village’s humble ancestors. They rest forever in the earth, their lives ended, but not forgotten. “Narrow cell” is a metaphor for the grave.
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock’s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Explanation:
These villagers will never again wake to the joys of morning—birds singing, fresh air, or farm sounds. Death has silenced those daily pleasures forever.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Explanation:
They can no longer enjoy family life—no warm fires, no loving wives, no children greeting them with joy. Gray reminds us that death ends even the simplest human joys.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Explanation:
These villagers were hardworking and productive—harvesting crops, plowing land, cutting wood. They lived active, valuable lives, even if unrecognized by history.
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
Explanation:
Gray tells the rich and powerful not to look down on the lives of the poor. Their efforts and joys were real and meaningful, even if their stories are simple.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave,
Awaits alike the inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Explanation:
No matter how rich, beautiful, or powerful someone is, they still must die. Death is the great equalizer. Even glory ends in the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,
If Memory o’er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Explanation:
Don’t blame the poor for lacking fancy tombs or being buried without ceremony. Not everyone can afford monuments or choirs to praise them after death.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honour’s voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
Explanation:
No monument, statue, or praise can bring someone back to life. Flattery and honor mean nothing to the dead. Death renders all such things powerless.
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Explanation:
Maybe someone buried here had great talent—a leader or a poet—but never got the chance to shine. Their potential was lost because of poverty and obscurity.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page
Rich with the spoils of time did ne’er unroll;
Chill Penury repressed their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Explanation:
They never had access to education or knowledge. Poverty held them back, suppressing their passions and natural talents.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Explanation:
Many valuable things go unseen—like gems deep in the ocean or flowers blooming where no one sees them. Likewise, many gifted people live and die unnoticed.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood.
Explanation:
Here may lie people who could have been brave leaders, great poets, or powerful statesmen—if they had the chance. But they lived in silence, their greatness unknown.
Th’ applause of listening senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o’er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation’s eyes,
Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
Explanation:
They were never allowed to achieve great things—or commit great evils. Their humble life kept them moral, safe from ambition’s corruptions.
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse’s flame.
Explanation:
They didn’t have to lie or commit sins to gain fame. Their lives were simple, honest, and free of such burdens.
Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Explanation:
They lived far from the chaos of the world. Their dreams were modest, and they lived quiet, peaceful lives.
Yet even these bones from insult to protect
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Explanation:
Even these villagers deserve a simple memorial, however crude, asking visitors to stop and remember them with a sigh of respect.
Their name, their years, spelt by th’ unlettered muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply:
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Explanation:
Simple, uneducated villagers carve names and dates onto gravestones. Religious quotes offer lessons about life and death for anyone passing by.
For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e’er resigned,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?
Explanation:
Who dies without at least one last look at life? Everyone wants to be remembered. No one easily gives up the joys of life.
On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires;
Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
Even in our ashes live their wonted fires.
Explanation:
Even dying people need love and remembrance. Our human emotions live on, even in memory and ashes.
For thee, who mindful of the unhonour’d dead
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate,
If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,—
Explanation:
Now the poet turns to himself. He wonders if, like these villagers, someone may someday wonder about him, after he too is gone.
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say:
“Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn…
…The next with dirges due in sad array
Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne:—
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.”
Explanation:
An old farmer may recall the poet’s daily walks and how one day he didn’t return. Later, the poet was buried just like the others. His life ends quietly, peacefully.
The Epitaph
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.
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 gained from Heaven (’twas all he wished) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,—
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
Explanation:
The poet’s self-written epitaph says he was unknown, kind, sincere, and thoughtful. He gave what little he had to those in pain and wanted only peace and spiritual connection. Don’t pry into his life further—let him rest in God’s care.
Difficult words and phrases with their meanings in simple English:
Stanza 1–4:
- Curfew – A bell rung in the evening (originally to signal people to extinguish fires and go to bed).
- Knell – A slow, solemn ringing of a bell, often for a funeral.
- Lea – A meadow or grassland.
- Plods – Walks slowly and heavily.
- Glimmering – Shining faintly or unsteadily.
- Moping – Gloomy or depressed.
- Bower – A pleasant shady place under trees or climbing plants.
- Mantled – Covered or cloaked.
Stanza 5–8:
- Incense-breathing Morn – Morning that smells fresh like incense (a metaphor for a fragrant new day).
- Turf – Grass-covered earth.
- Cell – A small room, here metaphorically used for a grave.
- Rude Forefathers – Uneducated or simple ancestors.
- Annals – Historical records.
- Grandeur – Greatness or splendor.
Stanza 9–12:
- Heraldry – The system by which coats of arms and noble family lines are identified.
- Pomp – Splendor or ceremony.
- Inevitable – Unavoidable.
- Impute – To assign blame or attribute something.
- Freighted Vault – Decorated arched ceiling (usually in a church).
- Animated bust – A statue or sculpture of a person’s head and shoulders.
- Fleeting breath – Life that doesn’t last long.
- Flattery – Excessive or insincere praise.
Stanza 13–15:
- Celestial fire – Divine inspiration or genius.
- Glebe – Soil or land used for farming.
- Pregnant with fire – Full of passion or creative energy.
- Chill Penury – Harsh poverty.
- Unroll – To open up or reveal.
- Genial – Warm or cheerful.
- Mute inglorious Milton – A silent, unknown person who could have been a great poet like John Milton.
- Village-Hampden – A local man like John Hampden (a politician who resisted tyranny).
- Wonted – Usual or habitual.
Stanza 16–19:
- Senates – Legislative or ruling councils (like Parliament).
- Recompense – A reward or compensation.
- Shrine of Luxury and Pride – Metaphorical place of wealth and arrogance.
- Madding crowd – The wild, confused masses of people.
- Sequestered vale – A quiet and isolated valley.
- Noiseless tenor of their way – Their quiet way of life.
Stanza 20–24:
- Frail memorial – A weak or humble gravestone.
- Uncouth – Rough, crude, or unpolished.
- Holy text – Religious quotations or verses.
- Rustic – Simple or rural.
- Dumb Forgetfulness – Complete and silent oblivion.
- Pious drops – Tears shed out of love or religious devotion.
- Kindred spirit – A person who feels a spiritual or emotional connection.
Epitaph:
- Lap of Earth – Metaphor for the grave or nature.
- Melancholy – Deep, thoughtful sadness.
- Sincere – Honest and genuine.
- Dirges – Funeral songs.
- Frailties – Weaknesses or flaws.
- Abode – A place of dwelling; here, it means the grave.
- Trembling hope – Uncertain but hopeful anticipation (of divine mercy).
- Bosom – The embrace or chest of someone, often used to mean “care” or “protection.”
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