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.

And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.

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.

A fav'rite has no friend!

To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.

Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.