Poetical Works |
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Page 21
... grief - full Muse addrest her infant tongue ; The maids and matrons , on her
awful voice , Silent and pale , in wild amazement hung . * Alluding to the Kuvas
apuxtor of Sophocles . See the Electra . Yet he , the bard * who first invok ' . '
ΦDES .
... grief - full Muse addrest her infant tongue ; The maids and matrons , on her
awful voice , Silent and pale , in wild amazement hung . * Alluding to the Kuvas
apuxtor of Sophocles . See the Electra . Yet he , the bard * who first invok ' . '
ΦDES .
Page 22
Yet he , the bard * who first invok ' d thy name , Disdain ' d in Marathon its power
to feel : For not alone he nurs ' d the poet ' s flame , But reach ' d from Virtue ' s
hand the patriot ' s steel . But who is he whom later garlands grace ; ! . . " Who left
...
Yet he , the bard * who first invok ' d thy name , Disdain ' d in Marathon its power
to feel : For not alone he nurs ' d the poet ' s flame , But reach ' d from Virtue ' s
hand the patriot ' s steel . But who is he whom later garlands grace ; ! . . " Who left
...
Page 82
... appear how happily this allegorical painting may he executed by the genuine
powers of poetical genius , and they will not fail to prove its force and utility , by
passing through the imagination to the heart . C . ODE I . TO PITY . By Pella ' s
bard ...
... appear how happily this allegorical painting may he executed by the genuine
powers of poetical genius , and they will not fail to prove its force and utility , by
passing through the imagination to the heart . C . ODE I . TO PITY . By Pella ' s
bard ...
Page 3
The Bard - - - - - . . . . . The Fatal Sisters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Descent of Odin . . . . .
. . The Triumphs of Owen - - . . . . The Death of Hoel . . . . . . . . . for Music . . . . . . . . .
A long Story . . . . . . . . Elegy written in a Country Church - yard The Epitaph .
The Bard - - - - - . . . . . The Fatal Sisters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Descent of Odin . . . . .
. . The Triumphs of Owen - - . . . . The Death of Hoel . . . . . . . . . for Music . . . . . . . . .
A long Story . . . . . . . . Elegy written in a Country Church - yard The Epitaph .
Page 34
ODE VI . TIIE BARD . Pindaric . Advertisement . The following Ode is founded on
a Tradition current in Wales , thel Edward I . when he completed the conquest of
that country , Orilired all the bards that fell into his hands to be put to death . 1 . 1 .
ODE VI . TIIE BARD . Pindaric . Advertisement . The following Ode is founded on
a Tradition current in Wales , thel Edward I . when he completed the conquest of
that country , Orilired all the bards that fell into his hands to be put to death . 1 . 1 .
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Common terms and phrases
appear bard beautiful beneath blest breast breathe charms dear death deep delight equal expression eyes fair fame Fancy fate Fear feel fire fond genius give grace Gray green hand happy head hear heard heart hope hour human Italy kind king land learning leave lies light live lord lost maid manners mind morn Muse native nature never night o'er once pain passions perhaps Pity plain pleasure poem poet poetical poetry pride pursue rise round scene seems seen shade shore side smiling song soul sound spread spring sweet tears thee thing thou thought thro Till toil train truth turn vale virtues voice wealth wild winds write youth
Popular passages
Page 28 - 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 62 - 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 61 - 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 29 - tis hard to combat, learns to fly! For him no wretches, born to work and weep, Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep; No surly porter stands in guilty state, To spurn imploring famine from the gate...
Page 49 - 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. " Then turn to-night, and freely share Whate'er my cell bestows ; My rushy couch, and frugal fare, My blessing and repose.
Page 62 - He gain'd from heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God.
Page 27 - The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove These were thy charms, sweet village ! sports like these With sweet succession taught e'en toil to please ; These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed, These were thy charms but all these charms are fled.
Page 31 - 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...
Page 17 - Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; While low delights, succeeding fast behind, In happier meanness occupy the mind : As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway, Defaced by time and tottering in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed ; And, wondering man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.
Page 15 - 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...
Bibliographic information
| Title | Poetical Works |
| Author | Oliver Goldsmith |
| Publisher | W. Suttaby and C. Corrall, 1806 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 26 veeb. 2008 |
| Length | 72 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |