The poetical works of Oliver Goldsmith, with illustr. by J. Absolon [and others.].1851 |
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Page 21
... Thine , freedom , thine the blessings pictur'd here , Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear ; Too blest , indeed , were such without alloy , But , fostered e'en by freedom , ills annoy ; That independence Britons prize too high ...
... Thine , freedom , thine the blessings pictur'd here , Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear ; Too blest , indeed , were such without alloy , But , fostered e'en by freedom , ills annoy ; That independence Britons prize too high ...
Page 47
... square , The rattling chariots clash , the torches glare . Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ; Sure these denote one universal joy ? Are these thy serious thoughts ? -Ah ! turn thine GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS . 47.
... square , The rattling chariots clash , the torches glare . Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ; Sure these denote one universal joy ? Are these thy serious thoughts ? -Ah ! turn thine GOLDSMITH'S POETICAL WORKS . 47.
Page 48
... thine , sweet Auburn ! thine , the loveliest train , Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now , perhaps , by cold and hunger led , At proud men's doors they ask a little bread . Ah , no ! To distant climes , a dreary scene ...
... thine , sweet Auburn ! thine , the loveliest train , Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now , perhaps , by cold and hunger led , At proud men's doors they ask a little bread . Ah , no ! To distant climes , a dreary scene ...
Page 84
... thine eyes , Should I at once deliver , Say , would the angry fair one prize The gift , who slights the giver ? A bill , a jewel , watch , or toy , My rivals give - and let ' em . If gems or gold impart a joy , I'll give them - when I ...
... thine eyes , Should I at once deliver , Say , would the angry fair one prize The gift , who slights the giver ? A bill , a jewel , watch , or toy , My rivals give - and let ' em . If gems or gold impart a joy , I'll give them - when I ...
Page 132
... thine ! CHORUS OF ISRAELITES . Down with her , Lord , to lick the dust— Thy vengeance be begun ; Serve her as she has served the just , And let thy will be done . FIRST PRIEST . - RECITATIVE . All , all is lost ! The Syrian army fails ...
... thine ! CHORUS OF ISRAELITES . Down with her , Lord , to lick the dust— Thy vengeance be begun ; Serve her as she has served the just , And let thy will be done . FIRST PRIEST . - RECITATIVE . All , all is lost ! The Syrian army fails ...
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The Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith, with Illustr. by J. Absolon [And ... Oliver Goldsmith No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 31 - I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene ; How often have I paused on every charm...
Page 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.