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Six hymns remain, and a few fragments of the elegies: but the most famous elegy, on Berenice's hair, is preserved to us only in a Latin paraphrase of Catullus.
I have a very beautiful elegy on a lady whom you love better than any one in the world; even better, I suspect, than L. N., and I was about to send it, but I won't till I hear from you: a nice, handsome letter; none of your little white ink scrawls. They talk of adjourning. No; I won't tell you that either.
The essay I select is, indeed, not without value in itself as a very curious and learned illustration of Popular Antiquities, and it serves also to show not only the comprehensive nature of Aram's studies and the inquisitive eagerness of his mind, but also the fact that he was completely self-taught; for in contrast to much philological erudition, and to passages that evince considerable mastery in the higher resources of language, we may occasionally notice those lesser inaccuracies from which the writings of men solely self-educated are rarely free, indeed Aram himself, in sending to a gentleman an elegy on Sir John Armitage, which shows much, but undisciplined, power of versification, says, "I send this elegy, which, indeed, if you had not had the curiosity to desire, I could not have had the assurance to offer, scarce believing I, who was hardly taught to read, have any abilities to write."
This blow was the loss of my wife. It is not my business here to write an elegy upon my wife, give a character of her particular virtues, and make my court to the sex by the flattery of a funeral sermon.
He delighted in music and poetry. On the last day of his life he said he would rather have written Gray's Elegy than have won a battle.
On the 16th of February, only five days after this letter was received, An Elegy wrote in a Country Church-yard appeared as a large quarto pamphlet, anonymous, price sixpence. From the very first it achieved great popularity. Magazine after magazine published it without giving the author any compensation. Gray was soon hit upon as the author.
They looked upon this young villain as a martyr, and at once dedicated an elegy to him, in which I was compared with Medea, Circe, and Fredegonde. It is precisely on account of this elegy that I have cared to set down this cruel anecdote.
Mausoleum, a Funeral Poem on our late Gracious Sovereign Queen Mary, of blessed memory. An Elegy on the most Rev. Father in God, his Grace John, late Archbishop of Canterbury; written in the year 1693. A Poem in Memory of his Grace the illustrious Duke of Ormond, and of the Right Hon. the Earl of Offory; written in the year 1688.
A better homily on the evanescence of human love and fame can scarcely be imagined: a face alive with moral personality and human charms, such as win and warm our stranger eyes, yet the name, subject, artist, owner, all lost in oblivion! To pause before an interesting but "unknown portrait" is to read an elegy as pathetic as Gray's.
When Haller deplores the death of his wife every one knows this beautiful elegy and begins in the following manner: "If I must needs sing of thy death, O Marian, what a song it would be! When sighs strive against words, And idea follows fast on idea," etc.,
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