Elegy written in a country churchyard
A walk through Ecchinswell’s St Lawrence churchyard, with the smell of the yew trees reminded me of this poem-
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds 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 [...]
