'Grave , The (excerpt)' by Robert Blair
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While some affect the sun, and some the shade.
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying thro' life;--the task be mine,
To paint the gloomy horrors of the tomb;
Th' appointed place of rendezvous, where all
These travellers meet.--Thy succours I implore,
Eternal King! whose potent arm sustains
The keys of Hell and Death.--The Grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appall'd
Shakes off her wonted firmness.--Ah ! how dark
The long-extended realms, and rueful wastes!
Where nought but silence reigns, and night, dark night,
Dark as was chaos, ere the infant Sun
Was roll'd together, or had tried his beams
Athwart the gloom profound.--The sickly taper,
By glimm'ring thro' thy low-brow'd misty vaults,
(Furr'd round with mouldy damps, and ropy slime)
Lets fall a supernumerary horror,
And only serves to make thy night more irksome.
Well do I know thee by thy trusty yew,
Cheerless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell
'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms:
Where light-heel'd ghosts, and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan, cold moon (as fame reports)
Embodied thick, perform their mystic rounds,
No other merriment, dull tree! is thine.
See yonder hallow'd fane;--the pious work
Of names once fam'd, now dubious or forgot,
And buried midst the wreck of things which were;
There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead.
The wind is up:--hark! how it howls!--Methinks,
'Till now, I never heard a sound so dreary:
Doors creak, and windows clap, and night's foul bird,
Rook'd in the spire, screams loud; the gloomy aisles
Black plaster'd, and hung round with shreds of 'scutcheons,
And tatter'd coats of arms, send back the sound,
Laden with heavier airs, from the low vaults,
The mansions of the dead.--Rous'd from their slumbers,
In grim array the grisly spectres rise,
Grin horrible, and, obstinately sullen,
Pass and repass, hush'd as the foot of night.
Again the screech-owl shrieks--ungracious sound!
I'll hear no more; it makes one's blood run chill.
Quite round the pile, a row of reverend elms,
(Coeval near with that) all ragged show,
Long lash'd by the rude winds. Some rift half down
Their branchless trunks; others so thin at top,
That scarce two crows can lodge in the same tree.
Strange things, the neighbours say, have happen'd here;
Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs;
Dead men have come again, and walk'd about;
And the great bell has toll'd, unrung, untouch'd.
(Such tales their cheer at wake or gossipping,
When it draws near to witching time of night.)
Oft in the lone church yard at night I've seen,
By glimpse of moonshine chequering thro' the trees,
The school boy, with his satchel in his hand,
Whistling aloud to bear his courage up,
And lightly tripping o'er the long flat stones,
(With nettles skirted, and with moss o'ergrown,)
That tell in homely phrase who lie below.
Sudden he starts, and hears, or thinks he hears,
The sound of something purring at his heels;
Full fast he flies, and dare not look behind him,
'Till, out of breath, he overtakes his fellows,
Who gather round and wonder at the tale
Of horrid apparition tall and ghastly,
That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand
O'er some new-open'd grave; and (strange to tell!)
Evanishes at crowing of the cock.
The new-made widow, too, I've sometimes 'spy'd,
Sad sight! slow moving o'er the prostrate dead:
Listless, she crawls along in doleful black,
While bursts of sorrow gush from either eye,
Fast falling down her now untasted cheek,
Prone on the lowly grave of the dear man
She drops; while busy meddling memory,
In barbarous succession, musters up
The past endearments of their softer hours,
Tenacious of its theme. Still, still she thinks
She sees him, and indulging the fond thought,
Clings yet more closely to the senseless turf,
Nor heeds the passenger who looks that way.
Invidious Grave!--how dost thou rend in sunder
Whom love has knit, and sympathy made one?
A tie more stubborn far than Nature's band.
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul,
Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society,
I owe thee much. Thou hast deserv'd from me,
Far, far beyond what I can ever pay.
Oft have I prov'd the labours of thy love,
And the warm efforts of the gentle heart,
Anxious to please.--Oh! when my friend and I
In some thick wood have wander'd heedless on,
Hid from the vulgar eye, and sat us down
Upon the sloping cowslip-cover'd bank,
Where the pure limpid stream has slid along
In grateful errors thro' the underwood,
Sweet murmuring; methought the shrill-tongued thrush
Mended his song of love; the sooty blackbird
Mellow'd his pipe, and soften'd every note:
The eglantine smell'd sweeter, and the rose
Assum'd a dye more deep; whilst ev'ry flower
Vied with its fellow-plant in luxury
Of dress--Oh! then the longest summer's day
Seem'd too too much in haste; still the full heart
Had not imparted half: 'twas happiness
Too exquisite to last. Of joys departed,
Not to return, how painful the remembrance!
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Grave by Robert Blair: A Masterpiece of the Human Condition
The Grave, an excerpt from the longer poem of the same name, is a timeless masterpiece of the human condition. Written by Robert Blair in the mid-18th century, this hauntingly beautiful poem has continued to captivate readers for centuries. This literary work is hailed as one of the greatest elegies in English literature.
At the heart of the poem lies a universal theme that has resonated with people throughout history: the inevitability of death. Blair meditates on this theme with a sense of awe and reverence, exploring the mysteries of the afterlife and the existential questions that have puzzled humanity for ages.
The poem opens with a somber, almost mournful tone, as Blair describes the grave as a place of darkness and decay. He paints a vivid picture of the inevitability of death, and the way it strips away all worldly trappings, leaving only the bare essence of the human soul.
The Grave, dread thing! Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appall'd, Shakes off her wonted firmness.
These opening lines set the stage for the rest of the poem, creating a sense of foreboding that permeates every stanza. Yet, at the same time, there is a sense of wonder and awe that runs through the lines, as Blair contemplates the mysteries of the afterlife and the transcendent nature of the human spirit.
One of the most striking aspects of The Grave is the vivid imagery that Blair uses to convey his ideas. He describes death as a "silent, dark, and deep" abyss, and the grave as a "narrow cell" that imprisons the body. This imagery is both powerful and evocative, creating a sense of unease in the reader that is hard to shake.
Yet, there is also a sense of acceptance and resignation that runs through the poem. Blair makes it clear that death is an inevitable part of the human experience, and that we must all face it eventually. This idea is expressed most powerfully in the following lines:
Nor is the equall'd mind Impress'd with human passions, cares, or joys, Affecting none.
Here, Blair suggests that death is a great equalizer, stripping away the trappings of wealth, power, and status, and reducing us all to the same level. This is a humbling idea, and one that has resonated with people throughout history.
Another key theme in The Grave is the idea of the afterlife. Blair describes the soul as a "mysterious being," and suggests that it is capable of transcending the physical world and journeying to a realm beyond. This idea is expressed most powerfully in the following lines:
But hark! a voice from the dominions drear, Breathes o'er the sleeping dust.
These lines suggest that even in death, there is a sense of hope and possibility, as the soul journeys to a realm beyond the physical world. Blair's vision of the afterlife is both mysterious and awe-inspiring, and it has continued to captivate readers for generations.
Overall, The Grave is a hauntingly beautiful poem that speaks to the deepest truths of the human condition. Through its vivid imagery, powerful themes, and sense of awe and wonder, it has continued to captivate readers for centuries. Whether you are a literature lover or simply someone seeking to explore the mysteries of life and death, this is a poem that is sure to leave a lasting impression.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The Grave by Robert Blair is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. Written in the 18th century, it is a meditation on death and the afterlife. The poem is divided into four parts, each exploring a different aspect of the subject. In this analysis, we will take a closer look at the first part of the poem, titled The Grave (excerpt).
The Grave (excerpt) begins with a description of a graveyard. Blair paints a vivid picture of the scene, using words like "gloomy," "silent," and "solemn." He describes the graves as "mouldering" and the tombstones as "mossy." The imagery is dark and foreboding, setting the tone for the rest of the poem.
Blair then turns his attention to the people who are buried in the graveyard. He asks the reader to imagine the lives they lived and the dreams they had. He wonders what they would say if they could speak from beyond the grave. This is a powerful image, as it forces the reader to confront their own mortality and the inevitability of death.
The poem then takes a more philosophical turn, as Blair begins to explore the nature of death itself. He asks whether death is an end or a beginning. Is it the end of life, or the beginning of something new? He suggests that death is a transition, a journey from one state of being to another.
Blair then goes on to describe the afterlife. He imagines a world beyond the grave, where the souls of the dead live on. He describes it as a place of peace and rest, where the cares of this world are left behind. This is a comforting image, and one that has resonated with readers for centuries.
The Grave (excerpt) is a powerful poem that explores some of the most fundamental questions of human existence. It forces the reader to confront their own mortality and to consider what lies beyond the grave. Blair's use of vivid imagery and powerful language creates a haunting and unforgettable portrait of death and the afterlife.
One of the most striking aspects of the poem is its use of imagery. Blair paints a vivid picture of the graveyard, using words like "gloomy," "silent," and "solemn." This creates a sense of foreboding and sets the tone for the rest of the poem. The imagery is so powerful that the reader can almost feel the chill of the graveyard and the weight of the tombstones.
Blair's use of language is also noteworthy. He uses words like "mouldering" and "mossy" to describe the graves and tombstones. These words create a sense of decay and disintegration, emphasizing the transience of life. Blair's language is both beautiful and haunting, creating a sense of unease in the reader.
The poem's exploration of the afterlife is also fascinating. Blair imagines a world beyond the grave, where the souls of the dead live on. He describes it as a place of peace and rest, where the cares of this world are left behind. This is a comforting image, and one that has resonated with readers for centuries. Blair's vision of the afterlife is both beautiful and hopeful, offering a sense of comfort to those who fear death.
In conclusion, The Grave (excerpt) is a powerful poem that explores some of the most fundamental questions of human existence. Blair's use of vivid imagery and powerful language creates a haunting and unforgettable portrait of death and the afterlife. The poem forces the reader to confront their own mortality and to consider what lies beyond the grave. It is a timeless work of art that continues to resonate with readers today.
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