The Traveller, the Deserted Village, and Other PoemsJ. Sharpe, 1822 - 154ÆäÀÌÁö |
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37 ÆäÀÌÁö
... train , And over fields where scatter'd hamlets rose In barren solitary pomp repose ? Have we not seen , at pleasure's lordly call , The smiling long - frequented village fall ? Beheld the duteous son , the sire decay'd , The modest ...
... train , And over fields where scatter'd hamlets rose In barren solitary pomp repose ? Have we not seen , at pleasure's lordly call , The smiling long - frequented village fall ? Beheld the duteous son , the sire decay'd , The modest ...
48 ÆäÀÌÁö
... train , from labour free , Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree : While many a pastime circled in the shade , The young contending as the old survey'd ; And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground , And slights of art and ...
... train , from labour free , Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree : While many a pastime circled in the shade , The young contending as the old survey'd ; And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground , And slights of art and ...
50 ÆäÀÌÁö
... train Usurp the land , and dispossess the swain ; Along the lawn , where scatter'd hamlets rose , Unwieldy wealth , and cumbrous pomp repose ; And every want to luxury allied , And every pang that folly pays to pride . Those gentle ...
... train Usurp the land , and dispossess the swain ; Along the lawn , where scatter'd hamlets rose , Unwieldy wealth , and cumbrous pomp repose ; And every want to luxury allied , And every pang that folly pays to pride . Those gentle ...
51 ÆäÀÌÁö
Oliver Goldsmith. Remembrance wakes with all her busy train , Swells at my breast , and turns the past to pain . • In all my wanderings round this world of care , In all my griefs - and God has given my share- I still had hopes , my ...
Oliver Goldsmith. Remembrance wakes with all her busy train , Swells at my breast , and turns the past to pain . • In all my wanderings round this world of care , In all my griefs - and God has given my share- I still had hopes , my ...
53 ÆäÀÌÁö
... train , The sad historian of the pensive plain . 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 ...
... train , The sad historian of the pensive plain . 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 ...
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Amidst ballad bards beauty Bishop of Dromore bless'd blessings bliss bookseller bowers breast brother BULKLEY Burke charms cheerful climes confess'd Covent Garden cried dance David Garrick dear DESERTED VILLAGE DRAWN BY RICHARD e'en Epilogue eyes fame flies follow'd fond Garrick genius gentle heart heaven hermit honest honour JOHN SHARPE Johnson keep a corner land Lishoy lord luxury mind mirth MISS CATLEY native ne'er never o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH once pass'd passion pasty patriot pensive perhaps PICCADILLY pity pleased pleasure poem poet poet's poor praise pride PUBLISHED BY JOHN racter Richard Westall rise round scene shore sigh sinks Sir Joshua Reynolds skies smiling sorrow soul spread STOOPS TO CONQUER stranger swain sweet SWEET AUBURN tale thee There's thine thou toil TRAVELLER turn twas venison VICAR OF WAKEFIELD wealth Whitefoord wish'd wretch
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48 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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...
47 ÆäÀÌÁö - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please — How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
65 ÆäÀÌÁö - And steady loyalty and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found' st me poor at first and keep'st me so...
48 ÆäÀÌÁö - The dancing pair that simply sought renown By holding out to tire each other down; The swain mistrustless of his smutted face, While secret laughter tittered round the place; The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love, The matron's glance that would those looks reprove.
64 ÆäÀÌÁö - Return'd and wept, and still return'd to weep. The good old sire, the first prepared to go To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; But for himself in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave.
23 ÆäÀÌÁö - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care; Impell'd with steps unceasing to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view : That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
32 ÆäÀÌÁö - To men of other minds my fancy flies, Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. Onward, methinks, and diligently slow, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow ; Spreads its long arms amidst the wat'ry roar, Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore.
56 ÆäÀÌÁö - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, 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...
65 ÆäÀÌÁö - Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Contented toil, and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness, are there; And piety with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
96 ÆäÀÌÁö - Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick If they were not his own by finessing and trick: He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back.