Poems. Dramas. Criticism relating to poetry and the belles-lettresJohn Murray, 1837 |
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Pagina 16
... wish , amidst the scene to find , Some spot to real happiness consign'd , Where my worn soul , each wandering hope at rest , May gather bliss to see my fellows blest . But , where to find that happiest spot below , ( 2 ) Who can direct ...
... wish , amidst the scene to find , Some spot to real happiness consign'd , Where my worn soul , each wandering hope at rest , May gather bliss to see my fellows blest . But , where to find that happiest spot below , ( 2 ) Who can direct ...
Pagina 20
... wish contracting , fits him to the soil . Cheerful at morn , he wakes from short repose , Breathes the keen air , and carols as he goes ; With patient angle trolls the finny deep , Or drives his vent'rous ploughshare to the steep ; ( 2 ) ...
... wish contracting , fits him to the soil . Cheerful at morn , he wakes from short repose , Breathes the keen air , and carols as he goes ; With patient angle trolls the finny deep , Or drives his vent'rous ploughshare to the steep ; ( 2 ) ...
Pagina 21
... wishes all confin'd . Yet let them only share the praises due ; If few their wants , their pleasures are but few : For every want that stimulates the breast Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest Whence from such lands each pleasing ...
... wishes all confin'd . Yet let them only share the praises due ; If few their wants , their pleasures are but few : For every want that stimulates the breast Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest Whence from such lands each pleasing ...
Pagina 27
... toil , and poets pant for fame . " - Ibid . ] ( 3 ) [ " Perish the wish ; for , inly satisfied , Above their pomps I hold my ragged pride . " - Ibid . ] O then how blind to all that truth requires , THE TRAVELLER . 27.
... toil , and poets pant for fame . " - Ibid . ] ( 3 ) [ " Perish the wish ; for , inly satisfied , Above their pomps I hold my ragged pride . " - Ibid . ] O then how blind to all that truth requires , THE TRAVELLER . 27.
Pagina 30
... Wishes . ' The truth is , that Goldsmith himself was in a mistake . In the ' Respublica Hungarica , ' there is an account of a desperate rebellion in the year 1514 , headed by two brothers of the name of Zeck , George and Luke . When it ...
... Wishes . ' The truth is , that Goldsmith himself was in a mistake . In the ' Respublica Hungarica , ' there is an account of a desperate rebellion in the year 1514 , headed by two brothers of the name of Zeck , George and Luke . When it ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Poems. Dramas. Criticism relating to poetry and the belles-lettres Oliver Goldsmith Volledige weergave - 1837 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
admire Arsace beauty breast Butler character charms Cicero Critical Croaker dear Ecod edit Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fame faults favour fear fond GARNET genius gentleman give Goldsmith hand happy HAST hear heart Heaven HONEY Honeywood honour hope Hudibras humour imitation JARV JARVIS lady language learning LEON Leontine letter LOFTY Lord Madam Mandane manner MARL Marlow mighty hand mind Miss HARD Miss NEV Miss Neville Miss RICH Miss Richland modest nature never o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH OLIVIA Ovid pain passion perhaps pity pleasure poem poet poetical poetry praise reader rhyme Sacred kings satire Scythian seems sentiments SERVANT shew soul SOUR spirit STOOPS TO CONQUER sublime sure taste tell thee there's thing thou thought TONY translation verses virtue Voltaire wretched write young Zamti Zounds
Populaire passages
Pagina 16 - But where to find that happiest spot below Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? 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,...
Pagina 57 - 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. I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my...
Pagina 54 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Pagina vii - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please...
Pagina 101 - Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining; Though equal to all things, for all things unfit; Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit; For a patriot too cool; for a drudge disobedient; And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. In short, 'twas his fate, unemployed or in place, sir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks...
Pagina 61 - The village master taught his little school. 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. Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault.
Pagina 60 - 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 whispered praise.
Pagina 59 - 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...
Pagina 127 - 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.
Pagina 55 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied...