Oliver Goldsmith

“ 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;
Till time may come, when stripp’d of all her charms,
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—
25 One sink of level avarice shall lie,
And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonour’d die.
Yet think not, thus when freedom’s ills I state,
I mean to flatter kings, or court the great. ”

“ Ye fields of Sharon, dress’d in flowery pride;
Ye plains, where Jordan rolls its glassy tide;
Ye hills of Lebanon, with cedars crown’d;
Ye Gilead groves, that fling perfumes around:
These hills how sweet! those plains how wondrous fair
But sweeter still, when Heaven was with us there!
Air.
O Memory! thou fond deceiver!
Still importunate and vain;
To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain;
Thou, like the world, the oppress’d oppressing,
Thy smiles increase the wretch’s woe!
And he who wants each other blessing,
In thee must ever find a foe. ”

“ The praise attending pomp and power,
The incense given to kings,
Are but the trappings of an hour—
Mere transitory things!
The base bestow them; but the good agree
To spurn the venal gifts as flattery.
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,
But aid the power of doing good—
Then all their trophies last; and flattery turns to fame.
Blest spirit thou, whose fame, just born to bloom,
Shall spread and flourish from the tomb,
How hast thou left mankind for heaven! ”

“ 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 hours that plenty bade to bloom,
Those calm desires that ask’d but little room,
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,
Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant’s power. ”

“ By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride:
From these the feeble heart and long-fall’n mind
An easy compensation seem to find.
Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp array’d,
The pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade;
Processions form’d for piety and love—
A mistress or a saint in every grove:
By sports like these are all their cares beguil’d;
The sports of children satisfy the child.
Each nobler aim, repress’d by long control,
Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul;
While low delights, succeeding fast behind,
In happier meanness occupy the mind. ”

“ 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,
Fierce in their native hardiness of soul,
True to imagin’d right, above control;
While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.
Thine, freedom, thine the blessings pictur’d here;
Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear;
Too bless’d indeed were such without alloy,
But, foster’d even by freedom, ills annoy. ”

“ 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;
The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth
Has robb’d the neighbouring fields of half their growth;
48 His seat, where solitary sports are seen,
Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;
Around the world each needful product flies,
For all the luxuries the world supplies:
While thus the land adorn’d for pleasure—all
In barren splendour feebly waits the fall. ”

“ And still they gaz’d, and still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew.
But pass’d is all his fame: the very spot,
Where many a time he triumph’d, is forgot.
45
Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high,
Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye,
Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspir’d,
Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retir’d,
Where village statesmen talk’d with looks profound,
And news much older than their ale went round. ”

“ Than reason—boasting mortals’ pride,
And that brute beasts are far before ’em:
Deus est anima brutorum.
Who ever knew an honest brute
At law his neighbour prosecute;
Bring action for assault and battery,
Or friend beguile with lies and flattery?
O’er plains they ramble unconfin’d,
No politics disturb their mind;
They eat their meals, and take their sport,
Nor know who’s in or out at court:
They never to the levee go,
To treat as dearest friend, a foe;
They never importune his Grace;
Nor ever cringe to men in place ”

“ For praise too dearly lov’d, or warmly sought,
Enfeebles all internal strength of thought—
And the weak soul, within itself unbless’d,
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;
21 Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boast one splendid banquet once a year:
The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,
Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. ”

“ That either seems destructive of the rest:
Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
Hence every state, to one lov’d blessing prone,
Conforms and models life to that alone;
Each to the favourite happiness attends,
And spurns the plan that aims at other ends—
Till, carried to excess in each domain,
This favourite good begets peculiar pain.
But let us try these truths with closer eyes,
And trace them through the prospect as it lies:
Here, for a while my proper cares resign’d,
Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind ”

“ Found half the charms that deck’d her face
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;
And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a slattern or a belle.
’Tis true she dress’d with modern grace—
Half naked at a ball or race;
But when at home, at board or bed,
Five greasy night-caps wrapp’d her head.
Could so much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend? ”

“ And even those ills, that round his mansion rise,
Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies:
18 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,
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;
Yet let them only share the praises due,
If few their wants, their pleasures are but few ”

“ Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,
And the long grass o’ertops the mouldering wall;
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler’s hand,
Far, far away thy children leave the land.
36
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;
But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride,
When once destroy’d, can never be supplied. ”

“ These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like these,
With sweet succession, taught even toil to please;
35 These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,
These were thy charms—but all these charms are fled.
Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant’s hand is seen,
And desolation saddens all thy green;
One only master grasps the whole domain,
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain. ”

“ A new creation rescued from his reign.
Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil
Impels the native to repeated toil,
Industrious habits in each bosom reign,
And industry begets a love of gain.
Hence all the good from opulence that springs,
With all those ills superfluous treasure brings,
Are here display’d. Their much-lov’d wealth imparts
Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;
But view them closer, craft and fraud appear—
Even liberty itself is barter’d here.
At gold’s superior charms all freedom flies ”

“ Look downward where an hundred realms appear—
8 Lakes, forests, cities, plains extending wide,
The pomp of kings, the shepherd’s humbler pride.
When thus Creation’s charms around combine,
Amidst the store should thankless pride repine?
Say, should the philosophic mind disdain
That good which makes each humbler bosom vain?
Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can,
These little things are great to little man;
And wiser he whose sympathetic mind
Exults in all the good of all mankind. ”

“ Man seems the only growth that dwindles here!
Contrasted faults through all his manners reign;
Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain
Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue—
And even in penance planning sins anew.
14 All evils here contaminate the mind,
That opulence departed leaves behind;
For wealth was theirs—nor far remov’d the date
When commerce proudly flourish’d through the state,
At her command the palace learn’d to rise,
Again the long-fall’n column sought the skies,
The canvas glow’d beyond even nature warm,
The pregnant quarry teem’d with human form ”

“ Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil’d,
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.
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,
Nor e’er had chang’d, nor wish’d to change, his place;
Unpractis’d he to fawn, or seek for power
By doctrines fashion’d to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn’d to prize—
More skill’d to raise the wretched than to rise. ”

“ I wish all my friends may be bolder than I:
Yet still they sit snug; not a creature will aim,
By losing their money, to venture at fame.
’Tis in vain that at niggardly caution I scold,
’Tis in vain that I flatter the brave and the bold ”

“ 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.
Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat
To persuade Tommy Townshend23 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;
For a patriot too cool; for a drudge disobedient ”

“ Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,
And brighter streams than fam’d Hydaspes glide.
There, all around, the gentlest breezes stray;
There gentle music melts on every spray;
Creation’s mildest charms are there combin’d;
Extremes are only in the master’s mind. ”

“ Humility displaces pride:
For tawdry finery is seen,
A person ever neatly clean:
No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good-nature every day:
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,
Jack finds his wife a—perfect beauty. ”

“ What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave!
How did Grub Street re-echo the shouts that you rais’d,
While he was be-Roscius’d, and you were be-prais’d!
But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,
To act as an angel, and mix with the skies:
96 Those poets, who owe their best fame to his skill,
Shall still be his flatterers, go where he will;
Old Shakspere receive him with praise and with love,
And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above.
Here Hickey reclines, a most blunt pleasant creature,
And slander itself must allow him good-nature ”

“ Well had the boding tremblers learn’d to trace
The day’s disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh’d with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey’d the dismal tidings when he frown’d:
Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declar’d how much he knew;
’Twas certain he could write, and cipher too,
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage—
And even the story ran that he could gauge. ”

“ Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts though small,
He sees his little lot the lot of all;
Sees no contiguous palace rear its head,
To shame the meanness of his humble shed—
No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal,
To make him loathe his vegetable meal—
But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,
Each wish contracting, fits him to the soil. ”

“ Magnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool.
92 At a dinner so various, at such a repast,
Who’d not be a glutton, and stick to the last?
Here, waiter, more wine, let me sit while I’m able,
Till all my companions sink under the table;
Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head,
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.
Here lies the good Dean, re-united to earth,
Who mix’d reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth ”

“ Here Whitefoord32 reclines, and deny it who can,
Though he merrily liv’d, he is now a grave man:
Rare compound of oddity, frolic, and fun—
Who relish’d a joke, and rejoic’d in a pun;
Whose temper was generous, open, sincere—
A stranger to flattery, a stranger to fear;
Who scatter’d around wit and humour at will;
Whose daily bon mots half a column might fill;
A Scotchman, from pride and from prejudice free;
A scholar, yet surely no pedant was he.
What pity, alas! that so liberal a mind
Should so long be to newspaper essays confin’d ”

“ Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,
Slights every borrow’d charm that dress supplies,
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes—
But when those charms are pass’d, 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. ”

“ The men have tails, the women paint the face.
No doubt they ’re all barbarians—yes, ’tis so;
I’ll try to make palaver with them, though;
’Tis best, however, keeping at a distance.
Good savages, our Captain craves assistance;
Our ship’s well stor’d—in yonder creek we’ve laid her:
His honour is no mercenary trader:
This is his first adventure; lend him aid,
And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.
His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from far—
Equally fit for gallantry and war. ”