The poetical works of Oliver Goldsmith, with illustr. by J. Absolon [and others.].1851 |
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Страница 8
... busy gale ; Ye bending swains that dress the flowery vale ; For me your tributary stores combine ; Creation's heir , the world , the world is mine ! As some lone miser , visiting his store , Bends. 8 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS .
... busy gale ; Ye bending swains that dress the flowery vale ; For me your tributary stores combine ; Creation's heir , the world , the world is mine ! As some lone miser , visiting his store , Bends. 8 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS .
Страница 18
... busy rolls their world away . Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear , For honour forms the social temper here : Honour , that praise which real merit gains , Or even imaginary worth obtains , Here passes current - paid from ...
... busy rolls their world away . Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear , For honour forms the social temper here : Honour , that praise which real merit gains , Or even imaginary worth obtains , Here passes current - paid from ...
Страница 31
... busy mill , The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill , The hawthorn bush , with seats beneath the shade , For talking age and whispering lovers made ; How often have I bless'd the coming day When toil remitting lent its turn to ...
... busy mill , The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill , The hawthorn bush , with seats beneath the shade , For talking age and whispering lovers made ; How often have I bless'd the coming day When toil remitting lent its turn to ...
Страница 35
... 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. D2 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS ...
... 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. D2 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS ...
Страница 38
... the shade , And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made . But now the sounds of population fail , No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale , No busy steps the grass - grown footway tread ,. 38 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS .
... the shade , And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made . But now the sounds of population fail , No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale , No busy steps the grass - grown footway tread ,. 38 GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS .
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The Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith, with Illustr. by J. Absolon [And ... Oliver Goldsmith Приказ није доступан - 2016 |
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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
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Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 31 - I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene ; How often have I paused on every charm...
Страница 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.