The Miscellaneous Works of Oliver Goldsmith: Including a Variety of Pieces Now First Collected, Tom 4

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Strona 70 - The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Strona 39 - How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Strona 64 - ... sleights of art and feats of strength went round ; And still as each repeated pleasure tired, Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired ; The dancing pair that simply...
Strona 69 - 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 mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year...
Strona 71 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.
Strona 76 - But when those charms are past, for charms are frail, When time advances, and when lovers fail, She then shines forth, solicitous to bless, In all the glaring impotence of dress.
Strona 72 - Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, There in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, The village master taught his little school.
Strona 78 - Altama murmurs to their woe. Far different there from all that charm'd before, The various terrors of that horrid shore; Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray, And fiercely shed intolerable day; Those matted woods where birds forget to sing. But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling...
Strona 29 - 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.
Strona 33 - But, while this softer art their bliss supplies, It gives their follies also room to rise; For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly sought, Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; And the weak soul, within, itself unblest, Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art, Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart; Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace; Here beggar- pride defrauds her daily cheer, To boast one...

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