The poetical works of Oliver Goldsmith, with a memoir by W. Spalding, Том 44Charles Griffin, 1864 - 152 страници |
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Страница 130
... Miss Catley . Enters MRS . BULKLEY , who curtsies very low as beginning to speak . Then enters MISS CATLEY , who stands full before her , and curtsies to the Audience . MRS . BULKLEY . HOLD , Ma'am , your pardon . What's your business here ...
... Miss Catley . Enters MRS . BULKLEY , who curtsies very low as beginning to speak . Then enters MISS CATLEY , who stands full before her , and curtsies to the Audience . MRS . BULKLEY . HOLD , Ma'am , your pardon . What's your business here ...
Страница 131
... MISS CATLEY . What if we leave it to the house ? MRS . BULKLEY . The house ! -Agreed . MISS CATLEY . Agreed . MRS . BULKLEY . And she whose party's largest shall proceed . And first , I hope you'll readily agree I've all the critics and ...
... MISS CATLEY . What if we leave it to the house ? MRS . BULKLEY . The house ! -Agreed . MISS CATLEY . Agreed . MRS . BULKLEY . And she whose party's largest shall proceed . And first , I hope you'll readily agree I've all the critics and ...
Страница 132
... MISS CATLEY . Ay , take your travellers - travellers indeed ! Give me my bonny Scot , that travels from the Tweed . Where are the chiels ? -Ah ! ah , I well discern The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn . Air . - A bonny young Lad ...
... MISS CATLEY . Ay , take your travellers - travellers indeed ! Give me my bonny Scot , that travels from the Tweed . Where are the chiels ? -Ah ! ah , I well discern The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn . Air . - A bonny young Lad ...
Страница 133
... MISS CATLEY . Air . - Ballinamony . Ye brave Irish lads , hark away to the crack , Assist me , I pray , in this woful attack ; For sure I don't wrong you - you seldom are slack , When the ladies are calling , to blush and hang back ...
... MISS CATLEY . Air . - Ballinamony . Ye brave Irish lads , hark away to the crack , Assist me , I pray , in this woful attack ; For sure I don't wrong you - you seldom are slack , When the ladies are calling , to blush and hang back ...
Страница 134
... MISS CATLEY . And that our friendship may remain unbroken , What if we leave the Epilogue unspoken ? MRS . BULKLEY . Agreed . MISS CATLEY . Agreed . MRS . BULKLEY . And now with late repentance , Un - epilogued the Poet waits his ...
... MISS CATLEY . And that our friendship may remain unbroken , What if we leave the Epilogue unspoken ? MRS . BULKLEY . Agreed . MISS CATLEY . Agreed . MRS . BULKLEY . And now with late repentance , Un - epilogued the Poet waits his ...
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Bachelor of Arts Bishop Berkeley blessings blest bliss boast bookseller breast brother BULKLEY Burke CHALDEAN character charms cheer CHORUS climes comedy Contarine cried daugh David Garrick dear Dublin e'en EPILOGUE Euphrates eyes fame father fear flies follies heart Heaven Hermit honour Johnson keep a corner labour land Lissoy looks Lord luxury maid mind mirth MISS CATLEY never o'er OLIVER GOLDSMITH pain Pasty pity plain pleasure poem poet poor praise pride rage raptures Recitative Reynolds rise round Samuel Johnson scene SECOND PRIEST SECOND PROPHET shore sigh sinks sizar skies skill'd smiling SONG sorrow soul spread spurn STOOPS TO CONQUER strength supplies swain sweet SWEET Auburn thee thine things thou thought toil triumph turn Twas tyrant uncle Ven'son Vicar of Wakefield village virtue wealth weep Whitefoord WOMAN wretch yonder youth
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Страница 68 - I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose. I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my...
Страница 55 - 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.
Страница 28 - But me, not destined such delights to share, My prime of life in wandering spent and care ; Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own.
Страница 68 - Along the lawn, where scattered hamlets rose, Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose ; And every want to luxury allied, And every pang that folly pays to pride.
Страница 67 - And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain: No more thy glassy brook reflects the day, But, choked with sedges, works its weedy way. Along thy glades, a solitary guest, The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries. 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.
Страница 67 - 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.
Страница 130 - The wretch condemn'd with life to part Still, still on hope relies ; And every pang that rends the heart Bids expectation rise. Hope, like the glimmering taper's light, Adorns and cheers the way ; And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray.
Страница 59 - Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind ; His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand, His manners were gentle, complying, and bland : Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart.
Страница 65 - SWEET AUBURN! loveliest village of the plain; Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed : Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please...
Страница 38 - Even liberty itself is barter' d here : At gold's superior charms all freedom flies, The needy sell it, and the rich man buys ; A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves...