The miscellaneous works of Oliver Goldsmith, including a variety of pieces now first collected by J. Prior, Band 3


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Seite 34 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. " For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go.
Seite 469 - Of all men, Goldsmith is the most unfit to go out upon such an inquiry ; for he is utterly ignorant of such arts as we already possess, and consequently could not know what would be accessions to our present stock of mechanical knowledge. Sir, he would bring home a grinding barrow, which you see in every street in London, and think that he had furnished a wonderful improvement.
Seite 57 - I'll tell you a good story about that, that will make you split your sides with laughing. But as I live, yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box at his back.
Seite 391 - I had certain and repeated informations, from some who are in the secret of affairs, that a resolution was taken, by those who have power to execute it, to pursue me to the scaffold. My blood was to have been the cement of a new alliance, nor could my innocence be any security, after it had once been demanded from abroad, and resolved on at home, that it was necessary to cut me off.
Seite 134 - 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.
Seite 392 - It is a comfort that will remain with me in all my misfortunes, that I served her Majesty faithfully and dutifully, in that especially which she had most at heart, relieving her people from a bloody and expensive war, and that I...
Seite 35 - I condemn; Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them. "But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring; A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego; All earth-born cares are wrong; Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Seite 38 - Twas Edwin's self that prest ! " Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, Restored to love and thee. " Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign : And shall we never, never part, My life, — my all that's mine ? " No, never from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true — The sigh that rends thy constant heart Shall break thy Edwin's too.
Seite 82 - AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD ,DOG. Good people all of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wondrous 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. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.
Seite 83 - The wondering neighbours ran, And swore the dog had lost his wits, To bite so good a man. The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To every Christian eye ; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That show'd the rogues they lied, The man recover'd of the bite, The dog it was that died.

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