The theory is that there are - three stanzas missing between the

sixth and seventh of Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" —supply, them.

I write the first part of this report before looking at the entries at all, to explain the rules by which I hope to be able to judge. First, sense. Gray's "Elegy," however soft-and dreamy the language, goes fast and covers a lot of ground in thought. There are extant, as you may know, at least three stanzas, two of them well up to form, that Gray himself wrote and later cut out because they broke the even tenor of the whole poem. They didn't come between stanzas six and seven, but Gray's removal of them shows that he was fully conscious of pace.

It's going to be difficult to keep that pace. But between stanzas six and seven I'm hoping to find three stanzas which in sense do something more than Just proliferate the negatives of stanzas five and six. We shall see. Now, prosody. I shall look for limpid meaning (only in stanza 24 does Gray become strained and involved), a tendency to give every other substantive an epithet, and unforced rhyming. I shall give marks for an occasional alliteration, and for vowel sounds. occasionally rhyming, or at least chiming, inside the lines. One overall test will be the classicism of the diction. Gray's " Elegy " is a perfect test for Latin elegiacs, from prep-school to donnery. Basically it is easy for Latin . . . so easy that any snivelling schoolboy with a Gradus Ad Parnassum could be sure of " getting " something "out." But the real scholar would be on his mettle to get a Statian glow from it to match the perfection of Gray. So if I feel that any entry wouldn't walk into Latin elegiacs, I shall be shy of giving it an a. An involved way of saying that Gray was a classic, and his " Elegy " pure Augustan. Now, let's see what we've got.

First for a quick run-through. Pity. Nothing in the a class here. I knew it was a difficult test, but I had hoped that a few entrants would score proxime accessit's to Gray. No. It's odd how quite a number of the better entrants (for sense) slip on to the Housman beam r through being too brusque. Or perhaps it's only their use of the word " lad " or "ale-can." A large number of entrants think that Gray would have taken in the village pub in the missing stanzas ; nutty ale, maypoles, Amaryllis in the shade, and all that. I rather doubt it. Fewer, but still numerous, entrants think the church and Sunday services would have been the theme. More likely, in my opinion.

Some pleasant facetious offerings:— Gone is the sweet, warm scent of munching kine ; The horse-shoe hangs askew above the door ; No longer flutter from the washing-line The short and simple flannels of the poor.

Thank-you for that, Fiona Macdonald. I'm not sure if J. Goudge is being playful or not with his opening stanza:— No more will daughter Mary peer outside, And, seeing Colin nigh the churchyard gate, Then well-arrayed, with ribbons newly-tied, Obey the law that calls the young to mate. .

I rather like M. S. Hunter's conceit in:— When the work-weary week began once more, The Swain, o'er-sated with domestic joys, Would kiss his wife and children at the door And nip off to the glebe to greet the boys. . . .

I doubt if even in his most Etonian moments Gray would have been content with Miss T. M. Gill's second stanza:— Each, reared to feudal pattern by his sire, Would bid his maidens curtsey and his boys Touch reverential forelock to the squire, Nor question social custom's equipoise. . . .

though possibly Hdirace Walpole would have thought it a good point to make.

Victor Coverley-Price is modern-political • Oft in pursuit of vermin on the farm They kept a tally of the rats they stew;. They would haltre heard with sorrow and alarm Their , progeny described as vermin too. Dust unto dust ! The soil has been enriched By rude forefathers mingled with the clay ; They did not live to see their country ditched By rude Lawgivers of the present day !

Now to shorten the short list. I wish G. E. Crawford's offering had been a little better. I'd have liked to give him a prize of some sort, prejudiced by his modest introductory note:— "If Gray did really omit three stanzas, he must havc had a reason, either that they were lacking in distinction, or the reflexions to commonplace for the general level of the poem. Hence, by this entrant, it was felt more realistic to avoid anything exquisite, striking or superfine . . . in brief to keep short of absolute perfection. . . ."

Guy Kendall had two good stanzas, and one excellent line ; of the church-bell tolling "In last slow salutation of the dead."

G. J. Milne spoils a rather good set with the introduction of the anachronistic "festal Christmas-tree" in his last line. Mrs. Palmer is good, but too modern. G. M. Gelsthorpe's set is good, but it couldn't, by a long chalk, fit in the stated gap. Honourable mention to Miss Kathleen Young (aged 17).

That leaves me with four ladies as semi-finalists, Miss 0. M Wilson, Miss F. L. G. Hey (or is it Miss F. L. Ghey ?), Phyllis Galley and Miss Edith Bancroft. Don't ask me why women should get nearer to Thos. Gray in mood than men. Only one of these sets would properly fit the supposed gap in sense. All the others overlap here and there with other parts of the "Elegy," and most marry awkwardly with Gray's seventh stanza.

FIRST PRIZE (MISS EDMI BANCROFT) Never on Sabbath moms with duteous heed

Will they again yon belfry's call obey, Gath'ring, in fealty to their simple creed, Within those sacred walls to kneel and pray.

Their feats of prowess on the festive green, Achieved amid the plaudits of their peers, Are now but tavern-tales of what has been, Dim legends of the far-retreating years.

Of circling seasons . .. Spring with fruitful rains, Summer's long day and opulence of bloom, Autumn's rich plenty. ... none to them remains Save the dark winter of th' inactive tomb.

SECOND PRIZE (Miss PHYLLIS GAMEY)

They will not walk the summer fields again In decent smock and Sabbath homespun drest, To note the tilth and mark the swelling grain That tells a task well done, a mind at rest.

Scorn not the pious faith with which they trod

Yon self-same path which through the Churchyard ran.

To lay before the Mystery of God The little simple agonies of Man.

Ye are no wiser than this quiet dust Before Life's power to quicken or destroy. Can Reason sweeten sorrow's bitter thrust, Or Riches beckon back a vanish'd joy ?