What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
13th eds 1st and 13th admirable Amidst Auburn Ballymahon Ben Jonson bittern blessings blest bliss blunders booksellers bowers breast brother Burke character charms climes Correggios couplet David Garrick dear decay Deserted Village early editions England English fairy gifts fault feebly flatter flies game of goose Garrick grace grave Hales happiness heart honour humble humour Irish Irving Johnson labour land Latin Lissoy luxury mansion metonymy Milton mind mirth native nature never o'er Oliver Goldsmith once play pleas'd pleasure poem poet poetical poetry pomp poor Pope praise pride Rapparee Retaliation round says scene seems sense Shakes sinks Sir Joshua Reynolds sizar smile soul Stoops to Conquer swains sweet Sweet Auburn thou thought toil Trav Traveller truth turn verses Vicar of Wakefield virtue vulgar wandering Washington Irving wealth Westminster Abbey word wretched writings wrote
Page 84 - 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, • In arguing too, the parson own'd his skill, And
Page 81 - steady zeal, each honest rustic ran; Even children follow'd, with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile: His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest, . Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distrest To them his heart, his love, his griefs
Page 79 - The mingling notes came soften'd from below: The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young, The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind— These all in sweet confusion
Page 87 - One native charm, than all the gloss of art. Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play, The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway; Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, Unenvied, unmolested, unconfin'd. But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd,
Page 127 - and the site of his schoolhouse ; and Catherine Giraghty, a lonely widow, *The wretched matron, forc'd in age for bread To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread* (and to this day the brook and ditches near the spot where her cabin stood abound with cresses), still remain in the memory of the inhabitants, and Catherine's children live in
Page 52 - Even now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, I sit me down a pensive hour to spend; And placed on high, above the storm's career, Look downward where an hundred realms appear— 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
Page 88 - scourg'd by famine from the smiling land, The mournful peasant leads his humble band; 300 And while he sinks, without one arm to save, The country blooms—a garden, and a grave. Where then, ah ! where shall poverty reside, To scape the pressure of contiguous pride ? If to some common's fenceless limits stray'd He drives his
Page 61 - Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame: Their level life is but a smouldering fire, Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong desire; Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer On some high festival of once a year, In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire.
Page 75 - Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd; Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could
Page 103 - he always was wiser. Too courteous, perhaps, or obligingly flat ? His very worst foe can't accuse him of that. Perhaps he confided in men as they go, And so was too foolishly honest ? Ah, no! Then what was his failing ? come, tell it, and burn ye! He Was—could he help it ?—a special attorney.