The poetical works of Oliver Goldsmith, with illustr. by J. Absolon [and others.].1851 |
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الصفحة xv
... lies Poet Goldsmith , for shortness called Noll , Who wrote like an angel , but talked like poor Poll . " This somewhat annoyed Goldsmith , who determined to fight on his adversary's ground , and accordingly , a severe and clever sketch ...
... lies Poet Goldsmith , for shortness called Noll , Who wrote like an angel , but talked like poor Poll . " This somewhat annoyed Goldsmith , who determined to fight on his adversary's ground , and accordingly , a severe and clever sketch ...
الصفحة 5
... lies , A weary waste expanding to the skies- Where'er I roam , whatever realms to see , My heart , untravell'd , fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns , with ceaseless pain , And drags at each remove a lengthening chain ...
... lies , A weary waste expanding to the skies- Where'er I roam , whatever realms to see , My heart , untravell'd , fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns , with ceaseless pain , And drags at each remove a lengthening chain ...
الصفحة 10
... lies : Here , for a while my proper cares resign'd , Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind ; Like yon neglected shrub , at random cast , That shades the steep , and sighs at every blast . Far to the right , where Appennine ascends ...
... lies : Here , for a while my proper cares resign'd , Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind ; Like yon neglected shrub , at random cast , That shades the steep , and sighs at every blast . Far to the right , where Appennine ascends ...
الصفحة 19
... lies . Methinks her patient sons before me stand , Where the broad ocean leans against the land ; And , sedulous to stop the coming tide , Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride . Onward , methinks , and diligently slow , The firm ...
... lies . Methinks her patient sons before me stand , Where the broad ocean leans against the land ; And , sedulous to stop the coming tide , Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride . Onward , methinks , and diligently slow , The firm ...
الصفحة 22
... lie , And scholars , soldiers , kings , unhonour'd die . Yet think not , thus when freedom's ills I state , I mean to flatter kings , or court the great . Ye powers of truth , that bid my soul aspire , Far from my bosom drive the low ...
... lie , And scholars , soldiers , kings , unhonour'd die . Yet think not , thus when freedom's ills I state , I mean to flatter kings , or court the great . Ye powers of truth , that bid my soul aspire , Far from my bosom drive the low ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Amidst ballad bards Bennet Langton bestow blessings blest bliss boast breast BULKLEY Burke CHALDEAN charms cheer CHORUS climes Coloured dear e'en Edmund Burke Epilogue epitaph eyes fame fear flies fond Garrick gilt edges groves guest HARRISON WEIR heart Heaven Hermit honour ISRAELITISH WOMAN Jack Johnson keep a corner labour land learning Lord luxury MADAME maid mind mirth MISS CATLEY never o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH pain pass'd pasty Pictures pity plain pleas'd pleasure poem poet poor praise pride PROPHET.-RECITATIVE proud rage raptures reign Richard Burke rise round scene sigh sinks Sir Joshua Reynolds skies skill'd smiling sorrow soul splendour spread STOOPS TO CONQUER stranger swain sweet SWEET AUBURN tear thee thine thou toil triumph turn Twas tyrant venison Vicar of Wakefield village Washington Irving wealth weep Whitefoord William Kenrick wretches yonder
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 33 - Sweet smiling village ! loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green ! One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain...
الصفحة 38 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind, These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
الصفحة 62 - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much ; Who, born for the universe, narrow' d his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
الصفحة 92 - Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes ; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.
الصفحة 40 - But in his duty prompt at every call, He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, for all; And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd, The reverend champion stood.
الصفحة 44 - Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlour splendours of that festive place: The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnished clock that clicked behind the door; The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day...
الصفحة 40 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
الصفحة 36 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
الصفحة 31 - I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene ; How often have I paused on every charm...
الصفحة 39 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.