The poetical works of Oliver Goldsmith, M.B.: with a life

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Page 36 - 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 61 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please — How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Page 66 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school. The watchdog'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 142 - Good people all of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wond'rous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, 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.
Page 77 - Altama murmurs to their woe. Far different there from all that charm'd before, The various terrors of that horrid shore; Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray, And fiercely shed intolerable day; Those matted woods where birds forget to sing.
Page 52 - Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind : Why have I stray'd from pleasure and repose, To seek a good each government bestows? In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That...
Page 76 - Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn ; Now lost to all, her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door she lays her head...
Page 52 - How small , of all that human hearts endure , That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Page 40 - Yet, still the loss of wealth is here supplied By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride : From these the feeble heart and long-fallen mind An easy compensation seem to find.
Page 80 - Redress the rigours of the inclement clime; Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain ; Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain ; Teach him, that states of native strength...

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