Explore "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.
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; / Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower / The moping owl does to the moon complain / Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bower, / Molest her ancient solitary reign.