Oliver Goldsmith

“ Struck at the sight, both hosts in wild surprise Pour’d forth their tears, and fill’d the air with cries; They wept and sigh’d, as pass’d the fun’ral train, As if both armies had at once been slain. 435 And now each troop surrounds its mourning chief, To guard his person, or assuage his grief. One is their common fear; one stormy blast Has equally made havoc as it pass’d. Not all, however, of their youth are slain; 440 Some champions yet the vig’rous war maintain. Three Foot, an Archer, and a stately Tower, For Phoebus still exert their utmost power. ”

“ With garlands of beauty the queen of the May No more will her crook or her temples adorn; For who’d wear a garland when she is away, When she is remov’d, and shall never return. 115 On the grave of Augusta these garlands be plac’d, We’ll rifle the spring of its earliest bloom, And there shall the cowslip and primrose be cast, And the new-blossom’d thorn shall whiten her tomb.
CHORUS.—ALTRO MODO.
On the grave of Augusta this garland be plac’d, 120 We’ll rifle the spring of its earliest bloom, And there shall the cowslip and primrose be cast, And the tears of her country shall water her tomb. ”

“ Nature disowns, and reason scorns thy mirth, In thy black aspect every passion sleeps, The joy that dimples, and the woe that weeps. 10 How has thou fill’d the scene with all thy brood, Of fools pursuing, and of fools pursu’d! Whose ins and outs no ray of sense discloses, Whose only plot it is to break our noses; Whilst from below the trap-door Demons rise, 15 And from above the dangling deities; And shall I mix in this unhallow’d crew? May rosined lightning blast me, if I do! No—I will act, I’ll vindicate the stage: Shakespeare himself shall feel my tragic rage. ”

“ As nature’s ties decay, As duty, love, and honour fail to sway, 350 Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. Hence all obedience bows to these alone, And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown; Time may come, when stripp’d of all her charms, 355 The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms, Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toil’d, and poets wrote for fame, One sink of level avarice shall lie, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonour’d die. ”

“ Macpherson write bombast, and call it a style, Our Townshend make speeches, and I shall compile; New Lauders and Bowers the Tweed shall cross over, No countryman living their tricks to discover; 90 Detection her taper shall quench to a spark, And Scotchman meet Scotchman, and cheat in the dark. Here lies David Garrick, describe me, who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man; As an actor, confess’d without rival to shine: 95 As a wit, if not first, in the very first line: Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings, a dupe to his art. ”

“ How often have I paus’d on every charm, The shelter’d cot, the cultivated farm, 10 The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topp’d the neighbouring hill, The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whisp’ring lovers made; How often have I bless’d the coming day, 15 When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village 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 ”

“ Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind: Why have I stray’d from pleasure and repose, 425 To seek a good each government bestows? In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure. 430 Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, Our own felicity we make or find: With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. ”

“ FROM ‘THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD’ 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, 5 To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is—to die. EPILOGUE TO ‘THE GOOD NATUR’D MAN’ As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure ”

“ But when to pomp and power are join’d An equal dignity of mind— When titles are the smallest claim— When wealth and rank and noble blood, 15 But aid the power of doing good— Then all their trophies last; and flattery turns to fame. Bless’d spirit thou, whose fame, just born to bloom Shall spread and flourish from the tomb, How hast thou left mankind for heaven! ”

“ FAST by that shore where Thames’ translucent stream Reflects new glories on his breast, Where, splendid as the youthful poet’s dream, He forms a scene beyond Elysium blest— Where sculptur’d elegance and native grace 5 Unite to stamp the beauties of the place, While sweetly blending still are seen The wavy lawn, the sloping green— While novelty, with cautious cunning, Through ev’ry maze of fancy running, 10 From China borrows aid to deck the scene— There, sorrowing by the river’s glassy bed, Forlorn, a rural bard complain’d, All whom Augusta’s bounty fed, All whom her clemency sustain’d ”

“ Where then, ah! where, shall poverty reside, To ’scape the pressure of continuous pride? If to some common’s fenceless limits stray’d, 305 He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide, And e’en the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped—What waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share; 310 To see ten thousand baneful arts combin’d To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; To see those joys the sons of pleasure know Extorted from his fellow creature’s woe. ”

“ Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride, 55 When once destroy’d, can never be supplied. 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 requir’d, but gave no more: 60 His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. But times are alter’d; trade’s unfeeling train Usurp the land and dispossess the swain ”

“ And though she felt his usage rough, Yet in a man ’twas well enough. The honey-moon like lightning flew, The second brought its transports too. 30 A third, a fourth, were not amiss, The fifth was friendship mix’d with bliss: But when a twelvemonth pass’d away, Jack found his goddess made of clay; Found half the charms that deck’d her face 35 Arose from powder, shreds, or lace; But still the worst remain’d behind, That very face had robb’d her mind. Skill’d in no other arts was she But dressing, patching, repartee; 40 And, just as humour rose or fell, By turns a slattern or a belle ”

“ But, missing his mirth and agreeable vein, As often we wish’d to have Dick back again. 60 Here Cumberland lies, having acted his parts, The Terence of England, the mender of hearts; A flattering painter, who made it his care To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are. His gallants are all faultless, his women divine, 65 And comedy wonders at being so fine; Like a tragedy queen he has dizen’d her out, Or rather like tragedy giving a rout. His fools have their follies so lost in a crowd Of virtues and feelings, that folly grows proud ”

“ Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam, His first, best country ever is, at home. And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, 75 And estimate the blessings which they share, Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An equal portion dealt to all mankind, As different good, by Art or Nature given, To different nations makes their blessings even. 80 Nature, a mother kind alike to all, Still grants her bliss at Labour’s earnest call; With food as well the peasant is supplied On Idra’s cliffs as Arno’s shelvy side ”

“ Along the lawn, where scatter’d hamlets rose, 65 Unwieldy wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose; And every want to opulence allied, And every pang that folly pays to pride. Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom, Those calm desires that ask’d but little room, 70 Those healthful sports that grac’d the peaceful scene, Liv’d in each look, and brighten’d all the green; These, far departing, seek a kinder shore, And rural mirth and manners are no more. Sweet AUBURN! parent of the blissful hour, 75 Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant’s power. ”

“ Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear, For honour forms the social temper here: Honour, that praise which real merit gains, Or e’en imaginary worth obtains, 260 Here passes current; paid from hand to hand, It shifts in splendid traffic round the land: From courts, to camps, to cottages it strays, And all are taught an avarice of praise; They please, are pleas’d, they give to get esteem, 265 Till, seeming bless’d, they grow to what they seem. But while this softer art their bliss supplies, It gives their follies also room to rise ”

“ O Luxury! thou curs’d by Heaven’s decree, 385 How ill exchang’d are things like these for thee! How do thy potions, with insidious joy Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! Kingdoms, by thee, to sickly greatness grown, Boast of a florid vigour not their own; 390 At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; Till sapp’d their strength, and every part unsound, Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round. E’en now the devastation is begun, 395 And half the business of destruction done ”

“ Such readers generally admire some half-witted thing, who wants to be thought a bold man, having lost the character of a wise one. Him they dignify with the name of poet; his tawdry lampoons are called satires, his turbulence is said to be force, and his frenzy fire.
What reception a Poem may find, which has neither abuse, party, nor blank verse to support it, I cannot tell, nor am I solicitous to know. My aims are right. Without espousing the cause of any party, I have attempted to moderate the rage of all. ”

“ How many leaders threw their lives away? The chequer’d plain is fill’d with dying box, Havoc ensues, and with tumultuous shocks The different colour’d ranks in blood engage, 390 And Foot and Horse promiscuously rage. With nobler courage and superior might The dreadful Amazons sustain the fight, Resolved alike to mix in glorious strife, Till to imperious fate they yield their life. 395 Meanwhile each Monarch, in a neighbouring cell, Confined the warriors that in battle fell, There watch’d the captives with a jealous eye, Lest, slipping out again, to arms they fly. ”

“ Ye powers of truth, that bid my soul aspire, Far from my bosom drive the low desire; And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel 365 The rabble’s rage, and tyrant’s angry steel; Thou transitory flower, alike undone By proud contempt, or favour’s fostering sun, Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure, I only would repress them to secure: 370 For just experience tells, in every soil, That those who think must govern those that toil; And all that freedom’s highest aims can reach, Is but to lay proportion’d loads on each. ”

“ Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart, 200 And e’en those ills, that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, 205 Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind’s roar, But bind him to his native mountains more. Such are the charms to barren states assign’d; Their wants but few, their wishes all confin’d. ”

“ Recall’d his Archer, and with motion due, Bid him advance, the combat to renew. 325 But Phoebus watch’d him with a jealous eye, Fearing some trick was ever lurking nigh, For he would oft, with sudden sly design, Send forth at once two combatants to join His warring troops, against the law of arms, 330 Unless the wary foe was ever in alarms. Now the white Archer with his utmost force Bent the tough bow against the sable Horse, And drove him from the Queen, where he had stood Hoping to glut his vengeance with her blood. ”

“ Creation’s mildest charms are there combin’d, Extremes are only in the master’s mind! Stern o’er each bosom reason holds her state, 325 With daring aims irregularly great; Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of human kind pass by, Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band, By forms unfashion’d, fresh from Nature’s hand; 330 Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, True to imagin’d right, above control, While e’en the peasant boasts these rights to scan, And learns to venerate himself as man. ”

“ The heartfelt power of every charm divine, Who can withstand their all-commanding shine? See how she moves along with every grace, 5 While soul-brought tears steal down each shining face. She speaks! ’tis rapture all, and nameless bliss, Ye gods! what transport e’er compared to this. As when in Paphian groves the Queen of Love With fond complaint addressed the listening Jove, 10 ’Twas joy, and endless blisses all around, And rocks forgot their hardness at the sound. Then first, at last even Jove was taken in, And felt her charms, without disguise, within. ”