The Poetical Works, and Essays, of Oliver Goldsmith

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Miltonian Press, 1818 - 253 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 53 - Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining ; Tho' equal to all things, for all things unfit, Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit; For a patriot too cool; for a drudge disobedient ; And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.
الصفحة 12 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.
الصفحة 9 - Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. In all my wand'rings 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 15 - The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied ; Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds : The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth ; His seat, where solitary sports are seen, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green...
الصفحة 13 - The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day...
الصفحة 34 - Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze ; And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore, Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.
الصفحة 10 - How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, A youth of labour with an age of ease ; Who quits a world where strong temptations try, And since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly...
الصفحة 81 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
الصفحة 28 - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care ; Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
الصفحة 12 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay — There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school.

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