Thomas Gray

Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.

Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind.

When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.

When iron scourge, and tort'ring hour
The bad affright, afflict the best.

The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.

The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast.

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more

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.

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!