The Poems of Oliver Goldsmith |
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Page 13
... land . But small the bliss that sense alone bestows , And sensual bliss is all the nation knows ; In florid beauty groves and fields appear- Man seems the only growth that dwindles here ! Contrasted faults through all his manners reign ...
... land . But small the bliss that sense alone bestows , And sensual bliss is all the nation knows ; In florid beauty groves and fields appear- Man seems the only growth that dwindles here ! Contrasted faults through all his manners reign ...
Page 18
... lands each pleasing science flies , 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 ...
... lands each pleasing science flies , 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 ...
Page 19
... land of mirth and social ease , Pleas'd with thyself , whom all the world can please- How often have I led thy sportive choir , With tuneless pipe , beside the murmuring Loire , Where shading elms along the margin grew , And , freshen'd ...
... land of mirth and social ease , Pleas'd with thyself , whom all the world can please- How often have I led thy sportive choir , With tuneless pipe , beside the murmuring Loire , Where shading elms along the margin grew , And , freshen'd ...
Page 20
... land ; From courts to camps , to cottages it strays , And all are taught an avarice of praise- They please , are pleas'd , they give to get esteem , Till , seeming bless'd , they grow to what they seem . But while this softer art their ...
... land ; From courts to camps , to cottages it strays , And all are taught an avarice of praise- They please , are pleas'd , they give to get esteem , Till , seeming bless'd , they grow to what they seem . But while this softer art their ...
Page 21
... 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. THE TRAVELLER .
... 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. THE TRAVELLER .
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Common terms and phrases
Amidst Babylon ballad bard beauty bestow bittern bless bless'd blest bliss bold breast BULKLEY Bunbury captive CHALDEAN CHARLES LEE LEWES charms cheer CHORUS climes Covent Garden cried crown'd dear Duke of Cumberland EDMUND EVANS Elphin Epilogue eyes fame flies fond groves guest HAUNCH OF VENISON heart Heaven hermit honour ISRAELITISH keep a corner land Lord luxury maid mankind mansion mind mirth MISS CATLEY never o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH pain pass'd passion Pasty pity plac'd plain pleas'd pleasure poem poet poor praise pride rage rapture Recitative reign Richard Burke rise round scene SECOND PRIEST SECOND PROPHET shore sigh sinks skies skill'd smiling song sorrow soul spread spurn STOOPS TO CONQUER stranger swain sweet Sweet AUBURN tear thee thine thou toil turn Twas venison village virtue wealth weep Whitefoord WOMAN wretch yonder youth
Popular passages
Page 34 - 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...
Page 59 - 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.
Page 55 - And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so; Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel, Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well!
Page 47 - Yes ! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, These simple blessings of the lowly train ; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm than all the gloss of art...
Page 37 - 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.
Page 126 - 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.
Page 43 - The reverend champion stood. At his control, Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise. At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
Page 44 - A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew : Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace The day's disasters in his morning face ; Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; Full well the busy whisper circling round, Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned.
Page 38 - Who quits a world where strong temptations try, And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly! For him no wretches, born to work and weep, Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep; No surly porter stands in guilty state, To spurn imploring famine from the gate...
Page 95 - As an actor, confess'd without rival to shine; As a wit, if not first, in the very first line: Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings — a dupe to his art. Like an ill-judging beauty, his colours he spread, And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red. On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; 'Twas only that when he was off he was acting.