OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 1728-1774.

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,
Or by the lazy Scheld, or wandering Po.

The Traveller. Line 1.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravelled fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,

And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. Line 7.

And learn the luxury of doing good.1

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Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view.

Line 26.

These little things are great to little man.

Line 42.

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine!

Line 50.

Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam,
His first, best country, ever is at home.

Line 73.

Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails, And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.

Line 91.

Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. Line 126.

By sports like these are all their cares beguiled;
The sports of children satisfy the child.

Line 153.

But winter lingering chills the lap of May.

Line 172.

Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose,
Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes.

Line 185.

1 For all their luxury was doing good.

Garth, Claremont, Line 149; Crabbe, Tales of the Hall,
Book iii.; Graves, The Epicure.

So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar,
But bind him to his native mountains more.

The Traveller. Line 217.

Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days

Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore,

Has frisked beneath the burden of threescore. Line 251.

Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies.

Methinks her patient sons before me stand,

Where the broad ocean leans against the land. Line 282.

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I see the lords of humankind pass by.1

Line 327.

The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms.

Line 356.

For just experience tells, in every soil,

That those that think must govern those that toil.

Line 372.

Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law.

Line 386.

Forced from their homes, a melancholy train,
To traverse climes beyond the western main;
Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around,
And Niagara stuns with thundering sound.

Line 409.

Vain, very vain, my weary search to find
That bliss which only centres in the mind.

Line 423.

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.
The Deserted Village. Line 1.
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made.

Line 13.

The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love.

Line 29.

1 Lord of humankind.

Dryden, The Spanish Friar, Act ii. Sc. 1.

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; 1
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroyed, can never be supplied.

1

The Deserted Village. Line 51.

His best companions, innocence and health,
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.

Line 61.

How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these,
A youth of labour with an age of ease!

Line 99.

While Resignation gently slopes away,

And, all his prospects brightening to the last,

His Heaven commences ere the world be past. Line 110.
The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind. Line 121.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year.

Line 141.

Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won.

Line 157.

Careless their merits or their faults to scan,

His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,

And even his failings leaned to Virtue's side. Line 161.

And, as a bird each fond endearment tries

To sempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

1 C'est un verre qui luit,

Qu'un souffle peut détruire, et qu'un souffle a produit.

Line 167.

De Caux (comparing the world to his hour-glass). See Pope, Satires and Epistles of Horace, Book ii. Ep. i.

Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray.
The Deserted Village. Line 179.

Even children followed with endearing wile,
And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile.
Line 183.

As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

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 was he kind, or, if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.

Line 189.

Line 199.

In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill,
For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still;
While words of learned length and thundering sound
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around;
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew
That one small head could carry all he knew. Line 211.

The whitewashed wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnished clock that clicked behind the door,
The chest contrived a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.

Line 227.

To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.
And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy.

Line 253.

Line 263.

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,

Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.
The Deserted Village. Line 329.

Through torrid tracks with fainting steps they go.
Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.

Line 344.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

Line 384.

O Luxury! thou curst by Heaven's decree.

Line 385.

Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so.

Line 413.

Who mixed reason with pleasure, and wisdom with

mirth.

Retaliation. Line 24.

Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind:
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.

Line 31.

His conduct still right, with his argument wrong.

Line 46.

A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.

Line 63.

Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can,
An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man.

Line 93.

As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.

Line 96.