Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way
With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,
There, in his mansion, skill'd to rule,
The village master taught his little school;
A man severe he was, and stern to view,
I knew him well, and every truant knew;
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The days disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he:
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd:
Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declar'd how much he knew;
'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too:
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,
And e'en the story ran that he could gauge.
In arguing too, the parson own'd his skill,
For e'en though vanquish'd he could argue still;
While words of learned length and thund'ring sound
Amazed the gazing rustics rang'd around;
And still they gaz'd and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew.
But past is all his fame. The very spot
Where many a time he triumph'd is forgot.
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The Village Schoolmaster
From guest Pratap N. Mathur (contact)
I remember this poem from my Grade VIII, in the Year 1933. It was in the Government High School, of Fatehgarh, a dusty little town in the plains of north India. Mr. Rao was our English Teacher, and fitted Goldsmith's dscription of the Village Schoolmaster, to a tee! We used to laugh and giggle at the thought! He used to enter the classroom, cane in hand, swishing it severely up and down, till it hummed! He was a big, fat man, with a Rajputi moustache, and always sported a fierce visage! Quite the figure of terror was he! Even so, in all fairness, let it be said, that in all his 2 years - Grades VII & VIII - that he taught us, he used the cane to give us of its best, only a few times! Just like in the poem, we could tell when that was going to be! We could trace the 'day's disasters in his morning face'! He later fell sick of one of the many afflictions that plagued India in those days. There were no antibiotics then. I saw him slowly shrivel and grow weak. I hope he recovered, but I never knew, since my father, in govenment service, was transferred, and we moved to another town where I joined Grade IX. P.S. In our school version, the line "For e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still" appeared in a simpler form: "For, though defeated, he could argue still!" And personally, I rather fancy my old school version as the better of the two! -
beautiful
From guest apurva (contact)
Amazed the gazing rustics rang'd around; And still they gaz'd and still the wonder grew, That one small head could carry all he knew. these lines are very amazing. -
amazing
From guest apurva (contact)
this poem is just amazing. its a poem where we come to know about the strict techers. we know the reason that why they are so strict at times.hence its a poem which should be read by everybody. -
The poem
From guest Polly (contact)
i am studying this for GCSE english and i think it is a lovely poem. three lines of it are on my papa's grave: The days disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee, At all his jokes, for many a joke had he: it is him to a T, it makes me feel like i know him again even though he dies so long ago. -
What should be done?
From guest Raina (contact)
Goldsmith's idea of a VILLAGE Schoolmaster is engaging.I reall think what should be done to arouse such a feeling in modern students? -
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Error
From guest Mick King (contact)
The line eight from bottom should read: "In arguing too, the Parson own'd his skill," -
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Thank you guest Mick King. It reads parson now!
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The village schoolmaster
It is more prosaic. Though the contents are engaging, poetry is somewhat outmoded. Ofcourse,interesting to read once.
Nuggehalli Pankaja -
There were remnants of teachers such as this when I as a child went to school. There was no reverence as such but definite fear and/or respect for school teachers. We did as we were instructed or cop the punishment.So many times I was happy NOT to be a boy. However after having left school and today 40+ years on I remember some of my teachers with an unexplainable fondness and respect. Something I feel the modern students will not feel as their lives progress.
Goldsmith lived in a time when most people of 'position' were revered by the working masses regardless of their input into society, that can still be said of modern times though.
Von -
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From guest kd (contact)
This poem is a classic that should be carried down through the years. I learnt it as a student in school and I still believe that is a description of my school headmaster at the time. -
And still they gaz'd and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew.
Unfortunately not a phrase I used much in all my years of teaching.
Goldsmith has captured the times when a teacher was a person to reckon with in a village. A multi-faceted person rather than the specialists we pedagogues have become.
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