a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

lirik lagu robert speaight - elegy in a country churchtyard by thomas gray

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

now fades the glimm’ring 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;

save that from yonder ivy~mantled tow’r
the moping owl does to the moon complain
of such, as wand’ring near her secret bow’r
molest her ancient solitary reign

beneath those rugged elms, that yew~tree’s shade
where heaves the turf in many a mould’ring heap
each in his narrow cell for ever laid
the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep

the breezy call of incense~breathing morn
the swallow twitt’ring from the straw~built shed
the c~ck’s shrill clarion, or the echoing h~rn
no more shall rouse them from their lowly bed

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
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 bow’d the woods beneath their st~rdy stroke!

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

the boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r
and all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave
awaits alike th’ inevitable hour
the paths of glory lead but to the grave

nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault
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

can storied urn or animated bust
back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
can honour’s voice provoke the silent dust
or flatt’ry soothe the dull cold ear of death?

perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
hands, that the rod of empire might have sway’d
or wak’d to ecstasy the living lyre
but knowledge to their eyes her ample page
rich with the spoils of time did ne’er unroll;
chill penury repress’d their n0ble rage
and froze the genial current of the soul

full many a gem of purest ray serene
the dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear:
full many a flow’r is born to blush unseen
and waste its sweetness on the desert air

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

th’ applause of list’ning senates to command
the threats of pain and ruin to despise
to scatter plenty o’er a smiling land
and read their hist’ry in a nation’s eyes

their lot forbade: nor circumscrib’d alone
their growing virtues, but their crimes confin’d;
forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne
and shut the gates of mercy on mankind

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
far from the madding crowd’s ign0ble strife
their sober wishes never learn’d to stray;
along the cool sequester’d vale of life
they kept the noiseless tenor of their way

yet ev’n these bones from insult to protect
some frail memorial still erected nigh
with uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck’d
implores the passing tribute of a sigh

their name, their years, spelt by th’ unletter’d muse
the place of fame and elegy supply:
and many a holy text around she strews
that teach the rustic moralist to die

for who to dumb forgetfulness a prey
this pleasing anxious being e’er resign’d
left the warm precincts of the cheerful day
nor cast one longing, ling’ring look behind?

on some fond breast the parting soul relies
some pious drops the closing eye requires;
ev’n from the tomb the voice of nature cries
ev’n in our ashes live their wonted fires

for thee, who mindful of th’ unhonour’d dead
dost in these lines their artless tale relate;
if chance, by lonely contemplation led
some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate

haply some h~~ry~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

“there at the foot of yonder nodding beech
that wreathes its old fantastic roots so high
his listless length at noontide would he stretch
and pore upon the brook that babbles by

“hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn
mutt’ring his wayward fancies he would rove
now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn
or craz’d with care, or cross’d in hopeless love

“one morn i miss’d him on the custom’d hill
along the heath and near his fav’rite tree;
another came; nor yet beside the rill
nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;

“the next with dirges due in sad array
slow thro’ the church~way path we saw him borne
approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay
grav’d on the stone beneath yon aged th~rn.”

the epitaph
here rests his head upon the lap of earth
a youth to fortune and to fame unknown
fair science frown’d not on his humble birth
and melancholy mark’d him for her own

large was his bounty, and his soul sincere
heav’n did a recompense as largely send:
he gave to mis’ry all he had, a tear
he gain’d from heav’n (’twas all he wish’d) 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

- lirik lagu robert speaight

Lirik lagu lainnya:

LIRIK YANG LAGI HITS MINGGU INI