The Vicar of Wakefield: A Tale Supposed to be Written by Himself ...

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Allyn & Bacon, 1899 - English literature - 243 pages
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Page 160 - 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 57 - No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn ; Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them. " But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring, A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ; All earth-born cares are wrong : Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Page 56 - 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 24 - We had no revolutions to fear, nor fatigues to undergo; all our adventures were by the fire-side, and all our migrations from the blue bed to the brown.
Page 4 - To be sure, Sir. When people find a man of the most distinguished abilities as a writer, their inferior while he is with them, it must be highly gratifying to them. What Goldsmith comically says of himself is very true, — he always gets the better when he argues alone ; meaning, that he is master of a subject in his study, and can write well upon it ; but when he comes into company, grows confused, and unable to talk. Take him as a poet, his ' Traveller ' is a very fine performance ; ay, and so...
Page 7 - OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH— A Poet, Naturalist, and Historian, Who left scarcely any style of writing untouched, And touched nothing that he did not adorn...
Page 241 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
Page 58 - To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest :
Page 13 - His humor delighting us still: his song fresh and beautiful as when first he charmed with it; his words in all our mouths: his very weaknesses beloved and familiar — his benevolent spirit seems still to smile upon us : to do gentle kindnesses : to succor with sweet charity: to soothe, caress, and forgive: to plead with the fortunate for the unhappy and the poor.
Page 108 - The wound it seemed both sore and sad To every Christian eye ; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That showed the rogues they lied; The man recovered of the bite, The dog it was that died.

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