The Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith

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Cundall & Addey, 1851 - 134 страница

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Страница 93 - 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 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 32 - And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round And still as each repeated pleasure tired, Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired ; The dancing pair that simply sought renown, By holding out to tire each other down ; The swain mistrustless of his smutted face, While secret laughter titter'd round the place ; The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove...
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 31 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endear'd each scene ! How often have I paused on every charm...
Страница 42 - Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault...
Страница 72 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. "For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow, Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go." " Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom. " Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still ; And, though my portion is but scant, I give it with good-will.
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 74 - Alas ! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay; And those who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. "And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?
Страница 16 - That first excites desire, and then supplies ; Unknown to them when sensual pleasures cloy, To fill the languid pause with finer joy ; Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. Their level life is but a...

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