The Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith

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Lee and Shepard, 1872 - 231ÆäÀÌÁö

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143 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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.
45 ÆäÀÌÁö - A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintain'd its man; For him light labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more: His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
46 ÆäÀÌÁö - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband our life's taper at the close And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
52 ÆäÀÌÁö - To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd, The reverend champion stood.
184 ÆäÀÌÁö - Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much ; Who, born for the Universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
54 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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 ; 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.
50 ÆäÀÌÁö - His house was known to all the vagrant train ; He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain ; The long-remembered beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast...
18 ÆäÀÌÁö - No product here the barren hills afford, But man and steel, the soldier and his sword. No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May ; No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. Yet still, even here, content can spread a charm, Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm. Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts tho...
59 ÆäÀÌÁö - Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride Takes up a space that many poor supplied ; Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds...
62 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ! Sure these denote one universal joy ! Are these thy serious thoughts ? — Ah, turn thine eyes Where the poor houseless shivering female lies.

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