The Poems of Oliver Goldsmith
T. Bensley, 1800 - English poetry - 129 pages
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acted aims beauties blessings blest bliss breast charms cried dear Designed e'en ev'ry eyes face fail fame faults fear fire flies fond freedom gentle give Goldsmith half happiness head heart heav'n honour hopes hour Italy keep kind land late learning leaves lies London looks lord luxury manners mean mind native nature never night o'er once pain past perhaps plain play pleas'd pleasure poem poet poetry poor pow'r praise pride printed Published pursuing reason reign rest rise round scene seems seen share shore short sinks smiling sorrow soul spread stranger supplies sure sweet tell thee things thou thought toil train tries truth turn twas village virtue wealth write
Page 12 - The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own ; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease : The naked negro, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home.
Page 55 - The various terrors of that horrid shore; Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray, And fiercely shed intolerable day...
Page 75 - Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick, If they were not his own by finessing and trick: He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back.
Page 56 - Though very poor, may still be very blest ; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away ; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky.
Page 45 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 9 - REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po ; Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor Against the houseless stranger shuts the door ; Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies, A weary waste expanding to the skies ; Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Page 10 - 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.
Page 41 - 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 46 - 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 laugh'd with counterfeited glee, At all his jokes, for many a joke had he...
Page 47 - Where many a time he triumphed is forgot. > Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye...