Stanza 1:
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
The first stanza sets the scene of a rural churchyard at dusk. The curfew bell is ringing, signaling the end of the day. The herds are slowly making their way back, and the plowman is going home. The speaker is alone in the darkness.
Stanza 2:
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;
As night falls, the landscape fades into darkness, and everything becomes still and solemn. The only sound is that of a beetle flying and the distant tinkling of sheep.
Stanza 3:
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.
The only other sound is the mournful hooting of an owl perched on a tower, complaining about any intruders who come near her secret abode.
Stanza 4:
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The speaker draws attention to the yew tree and the rugged elms, which offer shade to the graveyard. The turf is heaving due to the many graves in the area. The speaker notes that the "rude forefathers" of the village are buried here.
Stanza 5:
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.
The speaker reflects that the simple sounds of morning, such as the birdsong and the crowing of the rooster, no longer have the power to wake the dead from their graves.
Stanza 6:
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.
The speaker notes that the dead will never again enjoy the warmth of a fire or see the busy housewife taking care of her family. They will not have children running to greet them, and they will not experience the love and affection of their family.
Stanza 7:
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 sturdy stroke!
The speaker reminisces about the hard work that the dead put into their lives. They worked in the fields, breaking stubborn ground with their plows, and felled trees in the woods with their axes.
Stanza 8:
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 speaker cautions against ambition mocking the simple lives of the poor, who have worked hard and led humble lives. Grandeur should not dismiss the poor and their short and simple stories with disdain.
Stanza 9: heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:- The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
The speaker reflects on how even those who possess wealth, power, and beauty are not immune to death. Despite their achievements and the glory they have received, death is inevitable for everyone. All paths, no matter how glorious, eventually lead to the grave.
Stanza 10: 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.
The speaker addresses the proud and cautions them not to fault those buried in the churchyard for their lack of memorials or grandeur. The dead should not be judged for their simple burial places, where there are no grand monuments or anthems of praise being sung in their honor.
Stanza 11: 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?
The speaker asks whether grand monuments or praise can bring the dead back to life or comfort them in death. The answer, of course, is no. Death is final and cannot be reversed by any earthly means.
Stanza 12: 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.
The speaker imagines that some of the buried dead may have had great talents or ambitions that were never realized in their lifetime. They may have had the potential to rule an empire or create beautiful music, but their talents went unrecognized and unfulfilled.
Stanza 13: 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.
The speaker laments that the dead were never able to fully realize their potential due to their lack of education or financial resources. They were held back by poverty and were not able to unlock their full potential.
Stanza 14: 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.
The speaker draws a parallel between the dead and natural wonders that go unnoticed by most people. Just as there are many precious gems and flowers that go undiscovered in the world, there were likely many talented and intelligent people buried in the churchyard who were never recognized in their lifetime.
Stanza 15: 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.
The speaker imagines that some of the buried dead may have been great men, such as a village version of John Hampden who bravely stood up against a local tyrant, or a poet like John Milton who never achieved recognition during their lifetime. The speaker also mentions Cromwell, who, despite his controversial legacy, may be buried in the churchyard.
Stanza 16: In characters of stone. The speaker reflects on the qualities of great men, such as their ability to command the attention of the Senate, withstand threats, and improve their country. These qualities are so important that they should be recorded in stone.
Stanza 17: 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.
The speaker reiterates that no matter how much wealth or power one may have, death is inevitable. All paths of glory eventually lead to the grave.
Stanza 18: 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.
The speaker again addresses the proud and cautions them not to judge the simple graves of the dead. There is no need for memorials or grand monuments. The lack of these things does not diminish the achievements of those buried in the churchyard.
Stanza 19: 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?
The speaker asks again whether grand monuments or praise can bring the dead back to life or comfort them in death. Once again, the answer is no.
Stanza 20: 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.
The speaker again imagines that some of the buried dead may have had great potential that was never realized. They may have had the potential to rule an empire or create beautiful music, but their talents went unrecognized and unfulfilled.
Stanza 21: 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.
The speaker again draws a parallel between the buried dead and natural wonders that go unnoticed. Just as there are many precious gems and flowers that go undiscovered in the world, there were likely many talented and intelligent people buried in the churchyard who were never recognized in their lifetime.
Stanza 22: 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.
The speaker again imagines that some of the buried dead may have been great men, such as a village version of John Hampden who bravely stood up against a local tyrant, or a poet like John Milton who never achieved recognition during their lifetime. The speaker also mentions Cromwell, who, despite his controversial legacy, may be buried in the churchyard.
Stanza 23: 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 history in a nation's eyes,
The speaker again reflects on the qualities of great men, such as their ability to command the attention of the Senate, withstand threats, improve their country, and make an impact that is recorded in history.
Stanza 24: 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,
The speaker acknowledges that not all buried in the churchyard were great men. Some were likely restrained from realizing their full potential by their circumstances, or their negative qualities were too great to allow them to achieve greatness. The speaker mentions that some were prevented from committing acts of violence or cruelty in order to gain power, and were instead confined to a life of obscurity.
Stanza 25: 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.
The speaker acknowledges that some of the buried may have been burdened by a guilty conscience or shame, or were forced to flatter the wealthy and powerful in order to gain favor.
Stanza 26: Far from the madding crowd's ignoble 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.
The speaker describes the buried dead as people who lived a quiet and humble life away from the chaos and competition of the world. They did not seek recognition or wealth, but instead lived a simple life in a peaceful and secluded environment.
Stanza 27: 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.
The speaker acknowledges that even these simple and humble people deserve respect and remembrance. They may have only a simple and unpolished memorial, but it still deserves to be acknowledged with a moment of reflection.
Stanza 28: 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.
The speaker notes that the only record of these humble people's existence may be the simple and unpolished epitaphs on their gravestones, but even these humble memorials can offer wisdom and insight to those who read them. The rustic moralist is taught how to face death through the holy texts that are scattered around the graves.
Stanza 29: 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?
The speaker asks who could truly be content with being forgotten after they die, and not feel some sense of anxiety or sadness at leaving behind the warmth and beauty of life. Everyone has a longing to be remembered and leave some kind of legacy behind.
Stanza 30: 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.
The speaker suggests that even in death, we rely on the comfort of others and the hope that we will be remembered. Even in death, the voice of nature continues to speak and our passions and desires live on in our memory.
Stanza 31:
fate,
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 speaker suggests that if anyone happens upon this poem and is moved by the tale of the forgotten dead, they may encounter an old man who remembers one of those buried in the churchyard. The old man may recall how the person in question would rise early and walk through the dew to greet the sunrise on a hill.
Stanza 32:
'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.
The speaker imagines the old man recalling how the person in question would lay at the base of a beech tree, lazily watching the babbling brook. The tree's roots are described as "fantastic" because they twist and turn in strange shapes.
Overall, these stanzas continue the theme of the previous stanzas, reflecting on the lives and legacies of the ordinary people buried in the churchyard. The speaker recognizes the value and worth of even the humblest of individuals, and suggests that they may still be remembered and respected in their own way. The poem also highlights the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death, while also suggesting that the memories and legacies of the dead can still have an impact on the living.