Poetical Works |
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Page 24
The flowers that sweetest breathe , T ' hough Beauty cull ' d the wreath , Still ask
thy hand to range their order ' d hues . While Rome could none este But virtue ' s
patriot theme , You lov ' d her hills , and led her laureat band : But staid to sing ...
The flowers that sweetest breathe , T ' hough Beauty cull ' d the wreath , Still ask
thy hand to range their order ' d hues . While Rome could none este But virtue ' s
patriot theme , You lov ' d her hills , and led her laureat band : But staid to sing ...
Page 38
... lod bath While As oft he rises ' midst the twilight path , Against the pilgrim borne
in heedless hum : Now teach me , maid compos ' u , To breathe some soften ' d
strain , While se Or Wint Whose numbers , stealing through thy dark ' ning vale ...
... lod bath While As oft he rises ' midst the twilight path , Against the pilgrim borne
in heedless hum : Now teach me , maid compos ' u , To breathe some soften ' d
strain , While se Or Wint Whose numbers , stealing through thy dark ' ning vale ...
Page 11
... And breathe and walk again . " The meanest flow ' ret of the vale , « The
simplest note that swells the gale , “ The common sun , the air , the skies , “ To
him are opening Paradise . " Our author ' s reputation as a poet , was so high ,
that on the ...
... And breathe and walk again . " The meanest flow ' ret of the vale , « The
simplest note that swells the gale , “ The common sun , the air , the skies , “ To
him are opening Paradise . " Our author ' s reputation as a poet , was so high ,
that on the ...
Page 33
Bright - ey ' d Fancy , hov ' ring o ' er , Scatters from her pictur ' d urn Thoughts that
breathe and words that burn 8 : But ah ! ' tis heard no morell . . . . Oh , lyre divine !
what daring spirit Wakes thee now ; tho ' he inherit Nor the pride nor ample ...
Bright - ey ' d Fancy , hov ' ring o ' er , Scatters from her pictur ' d urn Thoughts that
breathe and words that burn 8 : But ah ! ' tis heard no morell . . . . Oh , lyre divine !
what daring spirit Wakes thee now ; tho ' he inherit Nor the pride nor ample ...
Page 40
What strings symphonious tremble in the air ! • What strains of vocal transport
round her play ! • Hear from the grave , great Talliessin # ! hear ! • They breathe a
soul to animate thy clay . • Bright Rapture calls , and soaring as she sings , •
Waves ...
What strings symphonious tremble in the air ! • What strains of vocal transport
round her play ! • Hear from the grave , great Talliessin # ! hear ! • They breathe a
soul to animate thy clay . • Bright Rapture calls , and soaring as she sings , •
Waves ...
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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 |