{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3365", "width": "2106", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Class:\\nBook_\\n%iOT \\\\itfA,\\nC0E2RIGHT DEPOSm", "height": "3169", "width": "2051", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3153", "width": "1964", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "2Dije Httiersitie literature Series\\nTHE DESERTED VILLAGE\\nTHE TRAVELLER\\nAND OTHER POEMS\\n1/\\nBI\\nOLIVER GOLDSMITH\\nii\\nWITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, INTRO-\\nDUCTIONS AND NOTES\\nWASW\\n^17?\\nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY\\nBoston 4 Park Street New York 11 East Seventeenth Street\\nChicago 28 Lakeside Building", "height": "3153", "width": "1964", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH OF OLIVER\\nGOLDSMITH.\\nOliver Goldsmith, the son of a humble village\\npreacher, was born at the parsonage in Pallas, the\\nproperty of the Edgeworths of Edgeworthstown, in the\\ncounty of Longford, Ireland, November 10, 1728.\\nHe died in London, wept over by Johnson, Burke,\\nReynolds, and Garrick, April 4, 1774, five months over\\nhis forty-fifth year. Between the obscure Irish village\\nbirthplace and the monument in Westminster Abbey\\nstretched a career which was half in clouds and half\\nin sunshine, a rainbow of tears and smiles. He had\\nno advantages of birth other than the priceless one\\nof a simple-hearted father, passing rich with forty\\npounds a year, who lives again in the preacher of the\\nDeserted Village and more minutely in the hero of\\nthe Vicar of Wakefield. His life to outward seem-\\ning was a series of blunders. He was tossed about\\nfrom one school to another, learning many things\\nwhich somehow seem more in his life than Latin or\\nGreek. He learned to play the flute, and he fell in\\nlove with vagrancy, or rather the vagrant in him was\\ncarefully nourished by an unworldly, unsophisticated\\nfather, a merry-andrew of a teacher, and by fickle For-\\ntune herself. An uncle, the Rev. Mr. Contarine, was\\nthe prudent man of the family, always appearing as the\\nnecessary counterpoise to prevent Oliver from flying off", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "6 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.\\ninto irrecoverable wandering. By his advice and help\\nthe lad passed from his schools to Trinity College,\\nDublin, perhaps a needful discipline, but certainly a\\nharsh one for there, where one might look for genial\\nsurroundings to one afterward to become a master in\\nliterature, the luckless youth was to find new trials to\\nhis sensitive spirit and to have his compensation in\\npleasures quite unprovided in the college scheme. His\\npoverty compelled him to take a menial position, he\\nhad a brutal tutor, and after he had been a year and\\na half at college his father died, leaving him in still\\nmore abject poverty than before. He wrote street\\nballads to save himself from actual starvation, and\\nsold them for five shillings apiece. In all this murky\\ngloom the lights that twinkle are the secret joy with\\nwhich the poor poet would steal out at night to hear\\nhis ballads sung, and the quick rush of feeling in\\nwhich he would use his five shillings upon some for-\\nlorn beggar, whose misery made him forget his own.\\nOnce he ran away from college, stung by some too\\nsharp insult from his tutor, but he returned to take\\nhis degree, and at the end of three years, carrying\\naway some scraps of learning, he returned to his mo-\\nther s house.\\nThere for two years he led an aimless, happy life,\\nwaiting for the necessary age at which he could qual-\\nify for orders in the church. He had few wants, and\\ngayly shared the little family s small stock of provision\\nand joint labors, teaching in the village school, fishing,\\nstrolling, flute-playing, and dancing. They were two\\nyears that made his Irish home always green in his\\nmemory, a spot almost dazzling for brightness when\\nhe looked back on it from the hardships of his Lon-\\ndon life. When the two years were passed he applied", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 1\\nto the Bishop for orders, but was rejected for various\\nreasons according to various authorities, but the most\\nsufficient one in any case was his own unwillingness to\\ntake the step urged upon him by friends. He was\\nsent by his uncle to begin the study of law, but the\\nfifty pounds with which he was furnished were lost at\\nplay, and the vagabond returned forgiven to his uncle s\\nhouse. He had visions of coming to America which\\nfortunately never passed into waking resolution, for it\\nis to be feared there would have been small likelihood\\nof his blossoming into literature on this side of the\\nwater in the days of ante-revolutionary flatness.\\nMedicine was the next resort, and Goldsmith was\\nsent by his uncle to Edinburgh. Although the title\\nof doctor has become familiarly connected with his\\nname, it is very certain that he did not acquire the\\ndegree in Edinburgh, but afterward in a foreign uni-\\nversity upon one of his wanderings. Few traditions\\nremain of his life at Edinburgh three or four amus-\\ning letters were written thence, but the impression\\nmade by them and by such gossip as survives is that\\nhe was an inimitable teller of humorous stories and a\\ncapital singer of Irish songs. His profession of medi-\\ncine, however, gave a show of consistency to his pur-\\npose of travel on the continent, where he persuaded\\nhimself and his friends that he should qualify him-\\nself for his professional degree. In point of fact he\\nspent his time in a happy-go-lucky fashion, wandering\\nfrom place to place, and singing a song for a sixpence.\\nThe philosophic vagabond in the Vicar of Wake-\\nfield is but a transparent mask for Goldsmith s own\\nfeatures at this time. I had some knowledge of\\nmusic, says that entertaining philosopher, with a tol-\\nerable voice I now turned what was once my amuse-", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "8 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.\\nment into a present means of subsistence. I passed\\namong the harmless peasants of Flanders, and among\\nsuch of the French as were poor enough to be very\\nmerry for I ever found them sprightly in proportion\\nto their wants. Whenever I approached a peasant s\\nhouse towards nightfall, I played one of my most\\nmerry tunes, and that procured me not only a lodging,\\nbut subsistence for the next day. I once or twice at-\\ntempted to play for people of fashion, but they always\\nthought my performance odious, and never rewarded\\nme even with a trifle. Although Goldsmith s medi-\\ncal knowledge was scarcely increased by his continen-\\ntal experience, he was wittingly or unwittingly adding\\ndaily to that knowledge of men and nature which\\nshines through his lightest writings. The Traveller\\nis a distillation of these wanderings.\\nHe returned to England in 1756, after two years of\\ndesultory life on the continent, and landed, we are told,\\nwithout a farthing in his pockets. He lived by hook\\nand by crook, serving in an apothecary s shop in a\\nhumble capacity, acting as tutor, it is said, under a\\nfeigned name, and living the while, as he afterward\\ndeclared, among beggars. Then, falling in with an\\nold friend, and getting some little assistance, for Gold-\\nsmith seemed always one of the open-handed, ready to\\nreceive and ready to bestow, he became a physician\\nin a humble way, struggling for a living in doctoring\\nthose only one degree richer than himself. By a curi-\\nous coincidence, one of his patients was a printer work-\\ning under Samuel Richardson, printer, and, what is\\nmore, author of Clarissa. From a hint given by\\nthis man, Goldsmith applied to Richardson and was\\ngiven occupation as a proof-reader. Then, falling in\\nwith an old schoolfellow whose father kept a school", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 9\\nin Peckham, Goldsmith became an usher, and a miser-\\nable time he had of it. Ay, cries George Prim-\\nrose s cousin to him, in the Vicar of Wakefield,\\nthis is indeed a very pretty career that has been\\nchecked out for you. I have been an usher at a board-\\ning-school myself, and may I die by an anodyne neck-\\nlace, but I had rather be an under-turnkey in New-\\ngate. I was up early and late I was brow-beat by\\nthe master, hated for my ugly face by the mistress,\\nworried by the boys within, and never permitted to\\nstir out to meet civility abroad. But are you sure you\\nare fit for a school Let me examine you a little.\\nHave you been bred apprentice to the business No.\\nThen you won t do for a school. Can you dress the\\nboys hair No. Then you won t do for a school.\\nHave you had the smallpox No. Then you won t\\ndo for a school. Can you lie three in a bed No.\\nThen you will never do for a school. Have you got a\\ngood stomach Yes. Then you will by no means do\\nfor a school. No, sir, if you are for a genteel, easy\\nprofession, bind yourself seven years as an apprentice-\\nto turn a cutler s wheel, but avoid a school by any\\nmeans. In the same conversation the city cousin ad-\\nvises George to take up authorship for a trade, and it\\nwas indeed by the humblest entrance that Goldsmith\\npassed into the domain where afterward he was to be\\nrecognized as master. Griffiths, the bookseller, dined\\none day at the school where Goldsmith was usher.\\nThe conversation turned upon the Monthly Review,\\nowned and conducted by Griffiths. Something said\\nby Goldsmith led to further consideration, and the\\nusher left the school to board and lodge with the book-\\nseller, to have a small regular salary, and to devote\\nhimself to the Monthly Review.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "10 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.\\nThe history of literature at this time in England\\ngives much space necessarily to the bookseller. In\\nthe transition period of authorship, this middleman\\noccupied a position of power and authority not since\\naccorded to him it was a singular relation which the\\ndrudging author held to his employer, and Goldsmith\\nfrom this time forward was scarcely ever free from a\\ndependence upon the autocrats of the book trade. He\\nentered the profession of literature as upon something\\nwhich was a little more profitable and certainly more\\nagreeable than the occupation of an usher in a board-\\ning-school, or the profession of a doctor without pay-\\ning clients. A profession which now dignifies its\\nmembers was then without respect socially, and at-\\ntended by all the meanness which springs from a false\\nposition. The rich and powerful in government looked\\nupon it as appointed only to serve the ends of the am-\\nbitious, and the poor author had to struggle to main-\\ntain his independence of nature. The men who could\\nsell their talents and their self-respect for gold and\\nplace jostled roughly their nobler comrades who served\\nliterature faithfully in poverty, and it was only now\\nand then that the fickle breath of popular favor\\nwafted some author s book into warmer waters. So\\ncrowding was this Grub Street life that Goldsmith\\nsought release from it in a vain attempt after a gov-\\nernment appointment as medical officer at Coromandel.\\nHe was driven back into the galleys from which he\\nwas striving to escape, yet out of this life there began\\nto issue the true products of his genius. He brooded\\nover his own and bis fellows condition. Something\\nwithin him made protest against the ignoble state of\\nliterature, and he wrote the first book which gave him\\na name, An Enquiry into the Present State of", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 11\\nPolite Learning in Europe. The subject was wrung\\nfrom his fortunes, but the style was the music which\\nhe had never failed to hear from boyhood. Style,\\nbred of no special study at Trinity College, nor too\\nclosely allied with learning, but a gift of nature,\\nguarded well and cherished by the varying fortune\\nwhich was moulding his mind in the secret fashion\\nthat makes a genuine surprise when discovered this\\nwas seen in his book, and justified his place in the\\ngreat profession of authorship. There is in Gold-\\nsmith s life, as in Andersen s, and in that of many a\\nman of genius, the sad, sweet story of the Ugly Duck-\\nling. Pecked at and scorned by meaner associates,\\nconscious of disadvantages and of inferiority in infe-\\nrior things, a divine ray of hope and longing never\\nleft him and when at last he gave outward expression\\nto the genius in him, he found himself amongst his\\ntrue fellows, recognized by men of genius as their as-\\nsociate. From this time forward Goldsmith knew his\\nplace and took it. He was thirty-one years of age,\\nand in the remainder of his life he wrote his essays in\\nThe Bee and The Citizen of the World The\\nYicar of Wakefield, The Traveller, The Deserted\\nVillage, his shorter poems, and the two comedies,\\nA Good-natured Man and She Stoops to Con-\\nquer. In quantity not a large showing, but glisten-\\ning with that pure fancy and happy temper which are\\namong the choicest gifts of literature to a tired world.\\nThese are his works which give him his place in liter-\\nature, but during the time when they were composed\\nhe was constantly at work upon tasks. He wrote his\\nhistories of England and Rome and his Animated\\nNature, which, despite its unscientific cast, is a store-\\nhouse of delightful reading and he wrote reviews,", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.\\nessays, prefaces, translations, and the like, quite beyond\\nrecord.\\nYet all this time he was in debt. He did not want\\nbecause his work was ill paid or he was not indus-\\ntrious, but because his money slipped through his\\nringers, too volatile to hold it fast. Some of it went\\nupon his back in the odd finery which has stuck to\\nhis reputation, but a large share went to the poor and\\nmiserable. Look at the poor man lying dead in his\\nsolitary chamber. The staircase of Birch Court is\\nsaid to have been filled with mourners, the reverse of\\ndomestic women without a home, without domesticity\\nof any kind, with no friend but him they had come to\\nweep for, outcasts of that great, solitary, wicked city,\\nto whom he had never forgotten to be kind and char-\\nitable. 1\\nThere were two sets of people who looked upon\\nOliver Goldsmith the poet, and each saw correctly\\nenough what each was capable of seeing. One saw in\\nhim a shiftless, vain, awkward, homely fellow, thrust-\\ning himself into good company, blundering, blurting\\nout nonsense or malapropos sayings, a gooseberry\\nfool. The other, containing men of genius, laughed\\nat poor Goldy, but never failed to seek his com-\\npany and to receive him as their equal. When Burke\\nwas told of his death, he burst into tears. Reynolds\\nwas painting when the news was brought to him he\\nlaid his pencil aside and would not go back that day\\nto his studio, a sign of grief never shown in times of\\ndeep family distress. Johnson never ceased to mourn\\nhim, and cast his profoundest conviction of the poet s\\ngenius into the monumental lines which form one of\\nthe noblest of elegies.\\n1 Forster s The Life and Times of Oliver Goldsmith, ii. 467.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE.\\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nThe Deserted Village was not Goldsmith s first\\nconsiderable poem; that was The Traveller, pub-\\nlished five or six years earlier but it is the produc-\\ntion which has endeared him most to readers, and it is\\nin form and content one of the most melodious and\\nat the same time thoughtful poems in the English lan-\\nguage. Its foundations are laid deep in human na-\\nture, for it is at once the reflection of a man upon the\\nbeginning of his life, and the return in thought of one\\nwho has seen much of the world to those simple de-\\nlights which are most elemental, least dependent upon\\nthe conventions of complex society. The poem is, be-\\nsides, the contribution of an earnest thinker toward\\nthe solution of great national and social problems.\\nGoldsmith had already shown in The Traveller not\\nonly that he was a clear-sighted observer of scenes in\\nvarious lands and an interpreter of national character-\\nistics, but that his mind had been at work on the great\\nquestion of what constitutes the real prosperity of na-\\ntions. In this poem he returns to the subject and\\nmakes his thought still more luminous by drawing\\na contrast between two separate conditions in the same\\nnation, rather than instituting a comparison among\\nseveral nations.\\nNever was the truth of literary art, that the great-\\nest success is attained when form and content are", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "14 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\ninseparably joined, better exemplified than in The\\nDeserted Village. Here is serious thought, but it is\\npresented in such exquisite language, it is illustrated\\nby such a series of charming pictures that one scarcely\\nperceives at first the solidity of the structure of the\\npoem. A great contemporary of Goldsmith s, Dr.\\nSamuel Johnson, wrote a sonorous and thoughtful\\npoem called The Vanity of Human Wishes, but\\nthough it was greatly and justly praised at the time, it\\nhas failed to fasten itself on the affection of readers\\nfor lack of that translucent beauty of form which has\\npreserved The Deserted Village and The Trav-\\neller.\\nFor Goldsmith was preeminently a poet in his trav-\\nels he saw into the soul of things in his reflection\\nhe penetrated beneath the surface, and in his expres-\\nsion both as regards words, phrases, and construction,\\nhe had the intuitive sense which chose the right word,\\ngave music to his phrase, and made the whole poem a\\nwork of art. This poem, therefore, like any great\\nimaginative piece, must not be examined too closely\\nfor an identity with prosaic fact. There is a likeness,\\nunquestionably, between Sweet Auburn, and Lissoy,\\nthe village where Goldsmith passed his childhood the\\nportrait of the village preacher might readily be taken\\nfor a sketch either of Goldsmith s father or his\\nbrother Henry; enthusiastic investigators even give\\nthe actual name of the\\nwretched matron, forced in age, for bread,\\nTo strip the brook with mantling cresses spread\\nbut one must never forget, if he would enter most com-\\npletely into the poet s way of looking at life, that all\\nthese facts of experience are transmuted into vivid", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 15\\nimages, creations of the poet s mind out of material\\nafforded him by memory and observation.\\nWhen Goldsmith wrote The Deserted Village,\\nhe was at the height of his fame and his power. He\\nwas now in his forty-second year he had produced in\\nclose proximity to each other a few years before, a\\nnotable poem, The Traveller, and a still more nota-\\nble piece of fiction, The Vicar of Wakefield. He\\nwas the friend of the literary nobility of the day, and\\nwas regarded by the booksellers as an important liter-\\nary workman. The poem was published May 26, 1770.\\nIts success was immediate and great. Within three\\nmonths five editions were called for, and though we\\ndo not know the size of the editions, it is easy to see\\nfrom this statement that each time the booksellers\\nprinted, public interest ran ahead of their calculations.\\nThe poem was dedicated to the great English painter,\\nSir Joshua Reynolds, who returned the compliment by\\npainting a picture, Resignation, to be engraved by\\nThomas Watson and inscribed with these words\\nThis attempt to express a character in The De-\\nserted Village is dedicated to Doctor Goldsmith, by\\nhis sincere friend and admirer, Joshua Rejiiolds.\\nThere was another poet whose name is easily linked\\nwith that of Goldsmith, Thomas Gray, the author of\\nAn Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. He\\nhad distilled his precious verse, and was now passing\\nwhat proved to be the last summer of his life with his\\nfriend Nicholls at Malvern, when the poem came out.\\nHe asked to hear it read and listening attentively to\\nit, he gave the emphatic verdict, which was much from\\nGray, That man is a poet.\\nThe fame of the poem extended far, for Goethe in\\nhis autobiographic memoir refers to it thus A", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "16 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nj oetical production, which our little circle hailed\\nwith transport, now occupied our attention this was\\nGoldsmith s The Deserted Village. This poem\\nseemed perfectly adapted to the sentiments which then\\nactuated us. The pictures which it represented were\\nthose which we loved to contemplate and sought with\\navidity, in order to enjoy them with all the zest of\\nyouth.\\nGoethe s attitude toward the poem suggests a line\\nof research for the student who wishes to carry his\\nstudy of the poem beyond the ordinary limits, and\\nthat is, an inquiry into the temper of the most\\nthoughtful English, German, and French writers just\\nprior to that upheaval of society which found its\\nmost violent expression in the French Revolution.\\nThe reader of the poem, as well as of Goldsmith s\\nverse in general, if he is unfamiliar with any other\\nthan nineteenth-century poetry, will very likely be\\npuzzled by the use of words in senses unfamiliar.\\nSome of these uses are pointed out in the notes, but\\nmany more will be learned by recourse to a good dic-\\ntionary. Next to a reading of the poem for delight\\ncomes the scrutiny of the language, and the reader is\\nadvised to look closely at the words, since in many\\ninstances an apparent meaning will be found to be\\nmore modern the real meaning to be an historical\\none, familiar to Goldsmith, but antiquated now. In-\\ndeed, in some respects Goldsmith s language is more\\nlikely to be misinterpreted than Shakespeare s.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "DEDICATION.\\nTO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.\\nDeae Sir, I can have no expectations, in an\\naddress of this kind, either to add to your reputation,\\nor to establish my own. You can gain nothing from\\nmy admiration, as I am ignorant of that art in which\\nyou are said to excel and I may lose much by the\\nseverity of your judgment, as few have a juster taste\\nin poetry than you. Setting interest, therefore, aside,\\nto which I never paid much attention, I must be in-\\ndulged at present in following my affections. The\\nonly dedication I ever made was to my brother, be-\\ncause I loved him better than most other men. He is\\nsince dead. Permit me to inscribe this poem to you.\\nHow far you may be pleased with the versification\\nand mere mechanical parts of this attempt, I do not\\npretend to inquire but I know you will object (and\\nindeed several of our best and wisest friends concur in\\nthe opinion), that the depopulation it deplores is no-\\nwhere to be seen, and the disorders it laments are\\nonly to be found in the poet s own imagination. To\\nthis I can scarce make any other answer than that I\\nsincerely believe what I have written that I have\\ntaken all possible pains, in my country excursions, for\\nthese four or five years past, to be certain of what I\\nallege and that all my views and inquiries have led\\nme to believe those miseries real, which I here attempt\\nto display. But this is not the place to enter into an", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "18 DEDICA TION.\\ninquiry, whether the country be depopulating or not\\nthe discussion would take up much room, and I should\\nprove myself, at best, an indifferent politician, to tire\\nthe reader with a long preface, when I want his\\nunfatigued attention to a long poem.\\nIn regretting the depopulation of the country, I in-\\nveigh against the increase of our luxuries and here\\nalso I expect the shout of modern politicians against\\nme. For twenty or thirty years past, it has been the\\nfashion to consider luxury as one of the greatest na-\\ntional advantages and all the wisdom of antiquity, in\\nthat particular, as erroneous. Still, however, I must\\nremain a professed ancient on that head, and continue\\nto think those luxuries prejudicial to states by which\\nso many vices are introduced, and so many kingdoms\\nhave been undone. Indeed, so much has been poured\\nout of late on the other side of the question, that,\\nmerely for the sake of novelty and variety, one would\\nsometimes wish to be in the right. I am, dear Sir,\\nYour sincere Friend and ardent Admirer,\\nOliver Goldsmith.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE.\\nSweet Auburn loveliest village of the plain,\\nWhere health and plenty cheer d the laboring\\nswain,\\nWhere smiling spring its earliest visit paid,\\nAnd parting summer s lingering blooms delay d\\n5 Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,\\nSeats of my youth, when every sport could please,\\nHow often have I loiter d o er thy green,\\nWhere humble happiness endear d each scene\\nHow often have I paus d on every charm,\\n10 The shelter d cot, the cultivated farm,\\nThe never-failing brook, the busy mill,\\nThe decent church that topt the neighboring hill,\\nThe hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,\\nFor talking age and whispering lovers made\\n15 How often have I blest the coming day,\\nWhen toil remitting lent its turn to play,\\nAnd all the village train, from labor free,\\nLed up their sports beneath the spreading tree\\nWhile many a pastime circled in the shade,\\n20 The young contending as the old survey d\\n4. Parting, i. e., departing, much as we use the phrase to part\\nwith. Here summer parts with us.\\n12. Decent. Following its Latin origin, the word was most\\ncommonly used in the eighteenth century in its sense of becom-\\ning, fit.\\n19. Circled. See an equivalent phrase in line 22.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "20 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nAnd many a gambol frolick d o er the ground,\\nAnd sleights of art and feats of strength went\\nround\\nAnd still, as each repeated pleasure tir d,\\nSucceeding sports the mirthful band inspir d\\n25 The dancing pair that simply sought renown,\\nBy holding out, to tire each other down\\nThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face,\\nWhile secret laughter titter d round the place\\nThe bashful virgin s sidelong looks of love,\\n30 The matron s glance that would those looks re-\\nprove\\nThese were thy charms, sweet village sports like\\nthese,\\nWith sweet succession, taught e en toil to please\\nThese round thy bowers their cheerful influence\\nshed,\\nThese were thy charms, but all these charms are\\nfled.\\n35 Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn\\nThy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn\\nAmidst thy bowers the tyrant s hand is seen,\\nAnd desolation saddens all thy green\\nOne only master grasps the whole domain,\\n40 And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain.\\nNo more thy glassy brook reflects the day,\\nBut chok d with sedges works its weedy way\\n27. The rude sports of the village no doubt survive in English\\ncountry life any one who reads the chapter A London Suburb in\\nHawthorne s Our Old Home will recognize a likeness between\\nGreenwich Fair as Hawthorne saw it and the Sweet Auburn of\\nGoldsmith s recollection. And American readers could supply\\nfrom boyish pranks the explanation of\\nThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 21\\nAlong thy glades, a solitary guest,\\nThe hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest\\n45 Amidst thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,\\nAnd tires their echoes with unvaried cries.\\nSunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,\\nAnd the long grass o ertops the mouldering wall\\nAnd, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler s hand,\\n50 Far, far away thy children leave the land.\\nIll fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,\\nWhere wealth accumulates, and men decay\\nPrinces and lords may flourish, or may fade\\nA breath can make them, as a breath has made\\n55 But a bold peasantry, their country s pride,\\nWhen once destroy d, can never be supplied.\\nA time there was, ere England s griefs began,\\nWhen every rood of ground maintain d its man\\nFor him light labor spread her wholesome store,\\n60 Just gave what life requir d, but gave no more\\nHis best companions, innocence and health\\nAnd his best riches, ignorance of wealth.\\nBut times are alter d trade s unfeeling train\\nUsurp the land, and dispossess the swain\\n44. In his Animated Nature, which is a book of descriptive\\nnatural history, Goldsmith uses the same term to characterize\\nthe bittern. Of all these sounds, he says, there is none so dis-\\nmally hollow as the booming of the bittern. I remember in\\nthe place where I was a boy, with what terror this bird s note\\naffected the whole village.\\n52. Goldsmith wrote earnestly and at some length on this\\ntheme in the nineteenth chapter of The Vicar of Wakefield.\\n63. The plural idea in train was uppermost in Goldsmith s\\nmind, so that he uses the plural form in the verbs in the next line.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "22 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n65 Along the lawn, where scatter d hamlets rose,\\nUnwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose\\nAnd every want to opulence allied,\\nAnd every pang that folly pays to pride.\\nThose gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,\\n70 Those calm desires that ask d but little room,\\nThose healthful sports that grac d the peaceful\\nscene,\\nLiv d in each look, and brighten d all the green\\nThese, far departing, seek a kinder shore,\\nAnd rural mirth and manners are no more.\\n75 Sweet Auburn parent of the blissful hour,\\nThy glades forlorn confess the tyrant s power.\\nHere, as I take my solitary rounds\\nAmidst thy tangling walks and ruin d grounds,\\nAnd, many a year elaps d, return to view\\nso Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew,\\nRemembrance wakes, with all her busy train,\\nSwells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.\\nIn all my wanderings round this world of care,\\nIn all my griefs and God has given my share\\n85 I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown,\\nAmidst these humble bowers to lay me down\\nTo husband out life s taper at the close,\\nAnd keep the flame from wasting by repose\\nI still had hopes for pride attends us still\\n90 Amidst the swains to show my book-learn d skill,\\nAround my fire an evening group to draw,\\nAnd tell of all I felt, and all I saw\\nAnd, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,\\n74. Manners has here the meaning of customs rather than be-\\nhavior.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 23\\nPants to the place from whence at first she flew,\\n95 1 still had hopes, my long vexations past,\\nHere to return, and die at home at last.\\nO blest retirement friend to life s decline,\\nRetreat from care, that never must be mine,\\nHow blest is he who crowns in shades like these\\n100 A youth of labor with an age of ease\\nWho quits a world where strong temptations try,\\nAnd, since t is hard to combat, learns to fly\\nFor him no wretches, born to work and weep,\\nExplore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep 5\\n105 No surly porter stands in guilty state,\\nTo spurn imploring famine from the gate\\nBut on he moves to meet his latter end,\\nAngels around befriending virtue s friend\\nBends to the grave with unperceiv d decay,\\n110 While resignation gently slopes the way\\nAnd, all his prospects brightening to the last,\\nHis heaven commences ere the world be past.\\nSweet was the sound, when oft at evening s close\\nUp yonder hill the village murmur rose.\\n115 There, as I pass d with careless steps and slow,\\nThe mingling notes came soften d from below\\nThe swain responsive as the milkmaid sung,\\nThe sober herd that low d to meet their young\\nThe noisy geese that gabbled o er the pool\\n120 The playful children just let loose from school\\n101. Goldsmith, writing one may say almost as a journalist,\\ngave little heed to possible repetitions of his phrases, and in The\\nBee he wrote By struggling with misfortunes, we are sure to\\nreceive some wound in the conflict the only method to come\\noff victorious is by running away.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "24 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nThe watch-dog s voice that bay d the whispering\\nwind,\\nAnd the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind\\nThese all in sweet confusion sought the shade,\\nAnd fill d each pause the nightingale had made.\\n125 But now the sounds of population fail,\\nNo cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale,\\nNo busy steps the grass-grown footway tread,\\nBut all the bloomy flush of life is fled.\\nAll but yon widow d, solitary thing,\\n130 That feebly bends beside the plashy spring\\nShe, wretched matron, f orc d in age, for bread,\\nTo strip the brook with mantling cresses spread,\\nTo pick her wintry fagot from the thorn,\\nTo seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn\\n135 She only left of all the harmless train,\\nThe sad historian of the pensive plain.\\nNear yonder copse, where once the garden smil d,\\nAnd still where many a garden flower grows wild,\\nThere, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,\\nwo The village preacher s modest mansion rose.\\nA man he was to all the country dear,\\nAnd passing rich with forty pounds a year.\\n121. I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, than such a\\nRoman. Shakespeare, Julius Ccesar, Act iv. Scene iii. i. 27.\\n124. Again in his Animated Nature, Goldsmith says The\\nnightingale s pausing song would be the proper epithet for this\\nbird s music.\\n141. One needs but to read Goldsmith s dedication of The\\nTraveller to see how closely he copied from life in drawing this\\nportrait of the village preacher. Goldsmith s use of passing\\nis as Shakespeare s\\nShe swore, in faith, twas strange, twas passing strange.\\nOthello, Act I. Scene iii. 1. 1G0.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 25\\nRemote from towns he ran his godly race,\\nNor e er had chang d, nor wish d to change, his place\\n145 Unpractis d he to fawn, or seek for power,\\nBy doctrines fashion d to the varying hour\\nFar other aims his heart had learn d to prize,\\nMore skill d to raise the wretched than to rise.\\nHis house was known to all the vagrant train,\\n150 He chid their wanderings, but reliev d their pain\\nThe long-remeinber d beggar was his guest,\\nWhose beard descending swept his aged breast\\nThe ruin d spendthrift, now no longer proud,\\nClaim d kindred there, and had his claims allow d\\n155 The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,\\nSate by his fire, and talk d the night away\\nWept o er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,\\nShoulder d his crutch, and shew d how fields were\\nwon.\\nPleas d with his guests, the good man learn d to\\nglow,\\nwo And quite forgot their vices in their woe\\nCareless their merits or their faults to scan,\\nHis pity gave ere charity began.\\nThus to relieve the wretched was his pride,\\nAnd e en his failings lean d to virtue s side\\n165 But in his duty prompt at every call,\\nHe watch d and wept, he pray d and felt for all.\\nAnd as a bird each fond endearment tries\\nTo tempt its new-fledg d offspring to the skies,\\nHe tried each art, reprov d each dull delay,\\nno Allur d to brighter worlds, and led the way.\\nBeside the bed where parting life was laid,\\nAnd sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay d,\\n171. See note on line 4.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "26 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nThe reverend champion stood. At his control,\\nDespair and anguish fled the struggling soul\\n175 Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,\\nAnd his last faltering accents whisper d praise.\\nAt church, with meek and unaffected grace,\\nHis looks adorn d the venerable place\\nTruth from his lips prevail d with double sway,\\n180 And fools, who came to scoff, remain d to pray.\\nThe service past, around the pious man,\\nWith steady zeal, each honest rustic ran\\nEven children follow d, with endearing wile,\\nAnd pluck d his gown, to share the good man s\\nsmile.\\n185 His ready smile a parent s warmth exprest,\\nTheir welfare pleas d him, and their cares distrest\\nTo them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given,\\nBut all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven\\nAs some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,\\n190 Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,\\nThough round its breast the rolling clouds are\\nspread,\\nEternal sunshine settles on its head.\\nBeside yon straggling fence that skirts the way\\nWith blossom d furze unprofitably gay,\\n195 There, in his noisy mansion, skill d to rule,\\nThe village master taught his little school.\\nA man severe he was, and stern to view\\nI knew him well, and every truant knew\\nWell had the boding tremblers learn d to trace\\n200 The day s disasters in his morning face\\nFull well they laugh d, with counterfeited glee,\\nAt all his jokes, for many a joke had he", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 27\\nFull well the busy whisper, circling round,\\nConvey d the dismal tidings when he frown d.\\n205 Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught,\\nThe love he bore to learning was in fault.\\nThe village all declar d how much he knew\\nT was certain he could write, and cipher too\\nLands he could measure, terms and tides presage,\\n210 And even the story ran that he could gauge\\nIn arguing, too, the parson own d his skill,\\nFor even though vanquish d he could argue still\\nWhile words of learned length and thundering\\nsound\\nAmaz d the gazing rustics rang d around\\n215 And still they gaz d, and still the wonder grew\\nThat one small head could carry all he knew.\\nBut past is all his fame. The very spot,\\nWhere many a time he triumph d, is forgot.\\nNear yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high,\\n220 Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye,\\nLow lies that house where nut-brown draughts in-\\nspir d,\\nWhere gray-beard mirth and smiling toil retir d,\\nWhere village statesmen talk d with looks pro-\\nfound,\\nAnd news much older than their ale went round.\\n225 Imagination fondly stoops to trace\\n209. The terms were sessions of law courts and universities.\\nThe tides were times and seasons, especially in the ecclesias-\\ntical year. He could tell when Eastertide, for instance, would\\ncome.\\n210. A gauger is in some places a sworn officer, whose duty\\nit is to measure the contents of hogsheads, barrels, or casks.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "28 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nThe parlor splendors of that festive place\\nThe whitewash d wall, the nicely sanded floor,\\nThe varnish d clock that click d behind the door\\nThe chest contriv d a double debt to pay,\\n230 A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day\\nThe pictures plac d for ornament and use,\\nThe twelve good rules, the royal game of goose\\nThe hearth, except when winter chill d the day,\\nWith aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay,\\n235 While broken teacups, wisely kept for show,\\nRang d o er the chimney, glisten d in a row.\\nYain, transitory splendors could not all\\nReprieve the tottering mansion from its fall\\nObscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart\\n240 An hour s importance to the poor man s heart.\\nThither no more the peasant shall repair\\nTo sweet oblivion of his daily care\\nNo more the farmer s news, the barber s tale,\\nNo more the woodman s ballad shall prevail\\n245 No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear,\\nRelax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear\\nThe host himself no longer shall be found\\nCareful to see the mantling bliss go round\\n226-236. The first form of this description will be found in\\nthe verses given later, page 88.\\n232. The twelve rules ascribed to Charles I. were 1. Urge no\\nhealths. 2. Profane no divine ordinances. 3. Touch no state\\nmatters. 4. Reveal no secrets. 5. Pick no quarrels. 6. Make\\nno companions. 7. Maintain no ill opinions. 8. Keep no bad\\ncompany. 9. Encourage no vice. 10. Make no long meal. 11.\\nRepeat no grievances. 12. Lay no wagers. The royal game of\\ngoose was a species of checkers.\\n244. Woodman s that is, a man versed in woodcraft, as a\\nhunter, not necessarily a wood-chopper.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 29\\nNor the coy maid, half willing to be prest,\\n250 Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.\\nYes let the rich deride, the proud disdain,\\nThese simple blessings of the lowly train\\nTo me more dear, congenial to my heart,\\nOne native charm, than all the gloss of art.\\n255 Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play,\\nThe soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway\\nLightly they frolic o er the vacant mind,\\nUnenvied, unmolested, unconfin d.\\nBut the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,\\n260 With all the freaks of wanton wealth array d,\\nIn these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,\\nThe toiling pleasure sickens into pain\\nAnd even while fashion s brightest arts decoy,\\nThe heart, distrusting, ask if this be joy.\\n265 Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey\\nThe rich man s joys increase, the poor s decay,\\nTis yours to judge how wide the limits stand\\nBetween a splendid and a happy land.\\nProud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore,\\n270 And shouting Folly hails them from her shore\\nHoards e en beyond the miser s wish abound,\\nAnd rich men flock from all the world around.\\n250. To kiss the cup was to touch it with the lips before pass-\\ning. Ben Jonson s well-known verses to Celia begin\\nDrink to me only with thine eyes,\\nAnd I will pledge with mine\\nOr leave a kiss but in the cup,\\nAnd I 11 not look for wine.\\n268. Goldsmith says a similar thing in the Citizen of the\\nWorld, when he makes the sententious remark There is a\\nwide difference between a conquering and a flourishing empire.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "30 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nYet count our gains this wealth is but a name,\\nThat leaves our useful products still the same.\\n275 Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride\\nTakes up a space that many poor supplied\\nSpace for his lake, his park s extended bounds,\\nSpace for his horses, equipage, and hounds\\nThe robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth\\n280 Has robb d the neighboring fields of half their\\ngrowth\\nHis seat, where solitary sports are seen,\\nIndignant spurns the cottage from the green\\nAround the world each needful product flies,\\nFor all the luxuries the world supplies.\\n285 While thus the land, adorn d for pleasure, all\\nIn barren splendor feebly waits the fall.\\nAs some fair female, unadorn d and plain,\\nSecure to please while youth confirms her reign,\\nSlights every borrow d charm that dress supplies,\\n290 Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes\\nBut when those charms are past, for charms are\\nfrail,\\nWhen time advances, and when lovers fail,\\nShe then shines forth, solicitous to bless,\\nIn all the glaring impotence of dress\\n295 Thus fares the land, by luxury betray d,\\nIn nature s simplest charms at first array d\\nBut, verging to decline, its splendors rise,\\nIts vistas strike, its palaces surprise\\nWhile, scourged by famine from the smiling land,\\n300 The mournful peasant leads his humble band\\nAnd while he sinks, without one arm to save,\\nThe country blooms a garden and a grave.\\n287. The use of female for woman was common as late\\nas Walter Scott.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 31\\nWhere then, ah where shall poverty reside,\\nTo scape the pressure of contiguous pride\\n305 If to some common s fenceless limits stray d,\\nHe drives his flock to pick the scanty blade,\\nThose fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide.\\nAnd even the bare-worn common is denied.\\nIf to the city sped, what waits him there\\n310 To see profusion that he must not share\\nTo see ten thousand baneful arts combin d,\\nTo pamper luxury, and thin mankind\\nTo see those joys the sons of pleasure know\\nExtorted from his fellow-creature s woe.\\n315 Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade,\\nThere the pale artist plies the sickly trade\\nHere, while the proud their long-drawn pomps dis-\\nplay,\\nThere the black gibbet glooms beside the way.\\nThe dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reign,\\n320 Here, richly deck d, admits the gorgeous train\\nTumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,\\nThe rattling chariots clash, the torches glare.\\nSure scenes like these no troubles e er annoy\\nSure these denote one universal joy\\n305. If to some common s fenceless limits [having] strayed.\\n309. If to the city [he has] sped.\\n316. Artist was applied to those engaged in the useful and\\nmechanic arts in Goldsmith s time.\\n319. When Coleridge wrote,\\nIn Xanadu did Kubla Khan\\nA stately pleasure -dome decree,\\nhe, too, like Goldsmith, was using a word not in what we regard\\nas its technical sense, but as expressing a certain splendor of\\nbuilding.\\n322. Even now in the thick November fogs of London, link-\\nboys, or boys with torches, point the way. Before the introduc-\\ntion of street lamps, such aids were common whenever the gen-\\ntry would move about after night-fall.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "32 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n325 Are these thy serious thoughts Ah turn thine\\neyes\\nWhere the poor houseless shivering female lies.\\nShe once, perhaps, in village plenty blest,\\nHas wept at tales of innocence clistrest\\nHer modest looks the cottage might adorn,\\n330 Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn\\nNow lost to all her friends, her virtue fled\\nNear her betrayer s door she lays her head,\\nAnd, pinch d with cold, and shrinking from the\\nshower,\\nWith heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,\\n335 When idly first, ambitious of the town,\\nShe left her wheel, and robes of country brown.\\nDo thine, sweet Auburn, thine, the loveliest train,\\nDo thy fair tribes participate her pain\\nEven now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led,\\n340 At proud men s doors they ask a little bread.\\nAh, no To distant climes, a dreary scene,\\nWhere half the convex world intrudes between,\\nThrough torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,\\n326. In his Citizen of the World Goldsmith has said These\\npoor shivering females have once seen happier days, and been\\nflattered into beauty. Perhaps now lying at the doors of\\ntheir betrayers, they sue to wretches whose hearts are insensible.\\n336. Her [spinning] wheel.\\n343-358. Goldsmith, like Englishmen of a later day, was a\\nlittle hazy in his notion of what the wilderness of America con-\\ntained. He wrote not long after Oglethorpe was giving relief\\nto many poor and distressed debtors, by welcoming them to his\\ncolony of Georgia. The Altama is better known as the Alta-\\nmaha, but a certain poetic liberty attaches to the description in\\ngeneral.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 33\\nWhere wild Altama murmurs to their woe.\\n345 Far different there from all that charm d before,\\nThe various terrors of that horrid shore\\nThose blazing suns that dart a downward ray,\\nAnd fiercely shed intolerable day;\\nThose matted woods where birds forget to sing,\\n350 But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling\\nThose pois nous fields with rank luxuriance crown d,\\nWhere the dark scorpion gathers death around\\nWhere at each step the stranger fears to wake\\nThe rattling terrors of the vengeful snake\\n355 Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey\\nAnd savage men more murderous still than they\\nWhile oft in whirls the mad tornado flies,\\nMingling the ravag d landscape with the skies.\\nFar different these from every former scene,\\n360 The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green,\\nThe breezy covert of the warbling grove,\\nThat only shelter d thefts of harmless love.\\nGood Heaven! what sorrows gloom d that part-\\ning day\\nThat call d them from their native walks away;\\n365 When the poor exiles, every pleasure past,\\nHung round the bowers, and fondly look d their\\nlast,\\nAnd took a long farewell, and wish d in vain\\nFor seats like these beyond the western main\\nAnd, shuddering still to face the distant deep,\\n370 Eeturn d and wept, and still return d to weep\\nThe good old sire the first prepar d to go\\n368. It was a common phrase in the earlier colonial days to\\nsay of colonists that they sate in a particular region.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "84 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nTo new-found worlds, and wept for others woe\\nBut for himself, in conscious virtue brave,\\nHe only wish d for worlds beyond the grave.\\n375 His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,\\nThe fond companion of his helpless years,\\nSilent went next, neglectful of her charms,\\nAnd left a lover s for a father s arms.\\nWith louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,\\n380 And bless d the cot where every pleasure rose\\nAnd kiss d her thoughtless babes with many a\\ntear\\nAnd clasp d them close, in sorrow doubly dear\\nWhilst her fond husband strove to lend relief\\nIn all the silent manliness of grief.\\n385 O Luxury thou curst by Heaven s decree,\\nHow ill exchang d are things like these for thee\\nHow do thy potions, with insidious joy,\\nDiffuse their pleasures only to destroy\\nKingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown,\\n390 Boast of a florid vigor not their own.\\nAt every draught more large and large they grow,\\nA bloated mass of rank, unwieldy woe\\nTill sapp d their strength, and every part unsound,\\nDown, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.\\n395 Even now the devastation is begun,\\nAnd half the business of destruction done\\nEven now, methinks, as pondering here I stand,\\nI see the rural Virtues leave the land.\\n398. Here begins a sort of vision in which Goldsmith pictures\\nsuch an emigrant band leaving England for America.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 35\\nDown where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail,\\n400 That idly waiting flaps with every gale,\\nDownward they move, a melancholy band,\\nPass from the shore, and darken all the strand.\\nContented Toil, and hospitable Care,\\nAnd kind connubial Tenderness, are there\\n405 And Piety with wishes plac d above,\\nAnd steady Loyalty, and faithful Love.\\nAnd thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,\\nStill first to fly where sensual joys invade\\nUnfit, in these degenerate times of shame,\\n410 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame\\nDear charming nymph, neglected and decried,\\nMy shame in crowds, my solitary pride\\nThou source of all my bliss and all my woe,\\nThat found st me poor at first, and keep st me\\nso;\\n415 Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel,\\nThou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well\\nFarewell and oh where er thy voice be tried,\\nOn Torno s cliffs, or Pambamarca s side,\\nWhether where equinoctial fervors glow,\\n420 Or winter wraps the polar world in snow,\\nStill let thy voice, prevailing over time,\\nRedress the rigors of the inclement clime\\nAid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain\\nTeach erring man to spurn the rage of gain\\n425 Teach him, that states of native strength posses t,\\n407. One is reminded of Bishop Berkeley s lines,\\nReligion stands r-tiptoe on the strand\\nWaiting to pass to the American land.\\n409. Unfit, unsuited\\n418. The river Tornea or Torneo falls into the Gulf of Both-\\nnia. Pambamarca is given by Peter Cunningham as a moun-\\ntain near Quito.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "36 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nThough very poor, may still be very blest\\nThat trade s proud empire hastes to swift decay,\\nAs ocean sweeps the labor d mole away\\nWhile self-dependent power can time defy,\\n430 As rocks resist the billows and the sky.\\n427-430. Dr. Johnson favored me at the same time by mark-\\ning the lines which he furnished to Goldsmith s Deserted Village,\\nwhich are only the last four. Boswell.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER OR A PROSPECT OF\\nSOCIETY.\\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nThe Deserted Village is used in this little vol-\\nume to introduce the reader to Goldsmith s poetry, be-\\ncause it is the more delightful of the two poems and\\nyet we doubt if any one who has enjoyed it will lose\\nhis interest as he goes on and reads The Traveller.\\nDr. Johnson, no mean critic, was disposed to prefer it\\nto the other poem. Take him as a poet, he said\\n44 his Traveller is a very fine performance ay, and\\nso is his Deserted Village, were it not sometimes\\ntoo much the echo of his Traveller. And at an-\\nother time, when the poem first appeared, he exclaimed,\\nu There has not been so fine a poem since Pope s time.\\nThe Deserted Village is not so much an echo of\\nThe Traveller as it is a restatement of the funda-\\nmental idea in that poem under another light, as we\\nhave noticed in the Introductory Note. Its form\\nwas determined in part by the mode of its composition.\\nIt would be too bald a phrase to say that it is a poeti-\\ncal diary, and Goldsmith had too fine a sense of po-\\netic art to make it such but it follows, as it were, the\\ncourse of its author s wanderings, and is a poetic epi-\\ngram of his observations and reflections in various\\ncountries.\\nIt was begun in Switzerland in 1755, but not com-\\npleted until 1764 and though Goldsmith had written", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "38 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nand printed much prior to that time, this was the\\nfirst work which bore his name and was therefore his\\nintroduction as an author to the reading public. The\\neffect of the poem upon his own reputation was great.\\nHe had been in the eyes of those about him a blunder-\\ning good fellow, a newspaper essayist and bookseller s\\ndrudge. He belonged indeed to the Literary Club,\\nbut it was by virtue of his complete absorption in lit-\\nerary pursuits, rather than because of any separate and\\ndistinguished work. Now he began to be estimated\\nat his real worth. Goldsmith being mentioned,\\nsays Boswell, who spoke the truth in spite of his preju-\\ndices, a sort of Balaam in literature, Johnson\\nobserved that it was long before his merit came to be\\nacknowledged. That he once complained to him, in\\nludicrous terms of distress, Whenever I write any-\\nthing, the public make a point to know nothing about\\nit but that his Traveller brought him into high\\nreputation. Langton. There is not one bad line\\nin that poem not one of Dryden s careless verses.\\nSir Joshua. I was glad to hear Charles Fox say, it\\nwas one of the finest poems in the English language.\\nLangton. Why was you glad You surely had no\\ndoubt of this before. Johnson. No the merit of\\nThe Traveller is so well established that Mr. Fox s\\npraise cannot augment it, nor his censure diminish it.\\nSir Joshua. i But his friends may suspect they had\\ntoo great partiality for him. Johnson. Nay, sir,\\nthe partiality of his friends was always against him.\\nIt was with difficulty we could give him a hearing.\\nGoldsmith had no settled notions upon any subject\\nso he talked always at random. It seemed to be his\\nintention to blurt out whatever was in his mind, and\\nsee what would become of it. He was angry, too,", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 39\\nwhen catched in an absurdity but it did not prevent\\nhim from falling into another the next minute. 1\\nAll this was said four years after Goldsmith s death,\\nbut it sets before us in lively fashion the contrast he\\npresented between a consummate artist in his work\\nand an impetuous, half stammering talker. He was\\nplainly at a disadvantage amongst men who made con-\\nversation a fine art, but his spontaneity, nevertheless,\\nmust have made him a delightful companion. The\\nTraveller, as we have said, gave him at once intel-\\nlectual repute among his peers. It gave him place\\na little more slowly with the general public, but it\\nneeded only The Vicar of Wakefield shortly after\\nto give him an established reputation.\\nIt will be noticed that Goldsmith in his dedication\\nof The Traveller had some bitter words to say\\nregarding Churchill. Mr. Forster in his Life and\\nAdventures of Oliver Goldsmith has taken excep-\\ntion not to Goldsmith s scorn, but to his application of\\nit. To Charles Hanbury Williams he says, but\\nnot to Charles Churchill, such epithets belong.\\nNever, that he might merely fawn upon power or\\ntrample upon weakness, had Churchill let loose his\\npen. There was not a form of mean pretence or ser-\\nvile assumption, which he did not use it to denounce.\\nLow, pimping politics he abhorred and that their\\nworthless abettors, to whose exposure his works are so\\nincessantly devoted, have not carried him into oblivion\\nwith themselves, argues something for the sound mo-\\nrality and permanent truth expressed in his manly\\nverse. By these the new poet was to profit as much\\nby the faults which perished with the satirist, and\\n1 BoswelVs Life of Johnson, edited by George Birkbeck Hill,\\niii. 252.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "40 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nleft the lesson of avoidance to his successors. In the\\ninterval since Pope s and Thomson s death, since Col-\\nlins s faint, sweet song, since the silence of Young, of\\nAkenside, and of Gray, no such easy, familiar, and\\nvigorous verse as Churchill s had dwelt in the public\\near. The less likely was it now to turn away, impa-\\ntient or intolerant of 4 The Traveller.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "DEDICATION.\\nTO THE REV. HENRY GOLDSMITH.\\nDear Sir, I am sensible that the friendship be-\\ntween us can acquire no new force from the cere-\\nmonies of a dedication and perhaps it demands an\\nexcuse thus to prefix your name to my attempts, which\\nyou decline giving with your own. But as a part of\\nthis poem was formerly written to you from Switzer-\\nland, the whole can now, with propriety, be only in-\\nscribed to you. It will also throw a light upon many\\nparts of it, when the reader understands that it is ad-\\ndressed to a man who, despising fame and fortune,\\nhas retired early to happiness and obscurity, with an\\nincome of forty pounds a year.\\nI now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of\\nyour humble choice. You have entered upon a sacred\\noffice, where the harvest is great, and the laborers are\\nbut few while you have left the field of ambition,\\nwhere the laborers are many, and the harvest not\\nworth carrying away. But of all kinds of ambition,\\nwhat from the refinement of the times, from differ-\\nent systems of criticism, and from the divisions of\\nparty, that which pursues poetical fame is the wild-\\nest.\\nPoetry makes a principal amusement among unpol-\\nished nations but in a country verging to the extremes\\nof refinement, painting and music come in for a share.\\nAs these offer the feeble mind a less laborious enter-", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "42 DEDICATION.\\ntainment, they at first rival poetry, and at length sup-\\nplant her they engross all that favor once shown to\\nher, and, though but younger sisters, seize upon the\\nelder s birthright.\\nYet, however this art may be neglected by the pow-\\nerful, it is still in greater danger from the mistaken\\nefforts of the learned to improve it. What criticisms\\nhave we not heard of late in favor of blank verse and\\nPindaric odes, choruses, anapests and iambics, alliter-\\native care and happy negligence Every absurdity\\nhas now a champion to defend it and as he is gener-\\nally much in the wrong, so he has always much to say\\nfor error is ever talkative.\\nBut there is an enemy to this art still more danger-\\nous I mean party. Party entirely distorts the judg-\\nment, and destroys the taste. When the mind is once\\ninfected with this disease, it can only find pleasure in\\nwhat contributes to increase the distemper. Like the\\ntiger, that seldom desists from pursuing man after\\nhaving once preyed upon human flesh, the reader, who\\nhas once gratified his appetite with calumny, makes,\\never after, the most agreeable feast upon murdered rep-\\nutation. Such readers generally admire some half-\\nwitted thing, who wants to be thought a bold man, 1\\nhaving lost the character of a wise one. Him they\\ndignify with the name of poet his tawdry lampoons\\nare called satires his turbulence is said to be force,\\nand his frenzy fire.\\nWhat reception a poem may find, which has neither\\nabuse, party, nor blank verse to support it, I cannot\\ntell, nor am I solicitous to know. My aims are right.\\n1 Churchill, at whom all this is aimed, died 4th November,\\n1764, while the first edition of The Traveller was passing\\nthrough the press. Peter Cunningham.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "DEDICATION. 43\\nWithout espousing the cause of any party, I have at-\\ntempted to moderate the rage of all. I have endeav-\\nored to show, that there may be equal happiness in\\nstates that are differently governed from our own\\nthat every state has a particular principle of happiness,\\nand that this principle in each may be carried to a\\nmischievous excess. There are few can judge, better\\nthan yourself, how far these positions are illustrated\\nin this poem. I am, dear Sir,\\nYour most affectionate Brother,\\nOliver Goldsmith.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "THE TEAVELLER.\\nRemote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,\\nOr by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po\\nOr onward, where the rude Carinthian boor\\nAgainst the houseless stranger shuts the door\\n5 Or where Campania s plain forsaken lies,\\nA weary waste expanding to the skies\\nWhere er I roam, whatever realms to see,\\nMy heart untravell d fondly turns to thee\\n1. There are few lines in English verse that compel a correct\\nreading so certainly as this. It is almost impossible for the\\nmost heedless not to read it with a lingering emphasis on each\\nword. The story is told by Boswell that at a meeting of the Lit-\\nerary Club just after the publication of the poem somebody\\nasked Goldsmith what he meant by the word u slow did he\\nmean tardiness of locomotion Yes, replied Goldsmith, but\\nJohnson caught him up, saying No sir, you did not mean\\ntardiness of locomotion you meant that sluggishness of mind\\nwhich comes upon a man in solitude. Ah, that was what\\nI meant, Goldsmith rejoined, accepting the more subtile inter-\\npretation. His answer gave rise to a suspicion that Johnson\\nwrote the line as well as many others, but Johnson afterward in-\\ndicated just what lines he did write, and they are named in the\\nnotes. Both the answers were correct; one does not exclude\\nthe other. The main thing to be noted is that the poet instinct-\\nively used the right word.\\n2. Or .or a Latin form, which has pretty much dropped\\nout of English use.\\n3. Peter Cunningham, one of Goldsmith s editors, writing in\\n1853, says Carinthia [east of the Tyrol] was visited by Gold-\\nsmith in 1755 and still retains its character for inhospitality.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 45\\nStill to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,\\n10 And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.\\nEternal blessings crown my earliest friend,\\nAnd round his dwelling guardian saints attend\\nBlest be that spot, where cheerful guests retire\\nTo pause from toil, and trim their evening fire\\n15 Blest that abode, where want and pain repair,\\nAnd every stranger finds a ready chair\\nBlest be those feasts with simple plenty crown d,\\nWhere all the ruddy family around\\nLaugh at the jests or pranks that never fail,\\n20 Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale,\\nOr press the bashful stranger to his food,\\nAnd learn the luxury of doing good.\\nBut me, not destin d such delights to share,\\nMy prime of life in wandering spent and care\\n25 Impell d, with steps unceasing, to pursue\\nSome fleeting good, that mocks me with the view\\nThat, like the circle bounding earth and skies,\\nAllures from far, yet, as I follow, flies\\nMy fortune leads to traverse realms alone,\\n30 And find no spot of all the world my own.\\nEv n now, where Alpine solitudes ascend,\\n10. In his Citizen of the World, Goldsmith repeats this senti-\\nment in prose The farther I travel I feel the pain of sepa-\\nration with stronger force. Those ties that bind me to my na-\\ntive country and you are still unbroken by every remove I only\\ndrag a greater length of chain.\\n13-22. Goldsmith returns to this theme with more specific\\nwords in The Deserted Village, lines 149-152.\\n24. The dashes used here and four lines below serve almost\\nas marks of parenthesis, and enable the reader to perceive that\\na sentence has been suspended, and that it finds completion in\\nlines 29, 30.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "46 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nI sit me down a pensive hour to spend\\nAnd, plac d on high above the storm s career,\\nLook downward where an hundred realms appear\\n35 Lakes, forests, cities, plains, extending wide,\\nThe pomp of kings, the shepherd s humbler pride.\\nWhen thus creation s charms around combine,\\nAmidst the store, should thankless pride repine\\nSay, should the philosophic mind disdain\\n40 That good which makes each humbler bosom vain\\nLet school-taught pride dissemble all it can,\\nThese little things are great to little man\\nAnd wiser he, whose sympathetic mind\\nExults in all the good of all mankind.\\n45 Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendor\\ncrown d,\\nYe fields, where summer spreads profusion round,\\nYe lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,\\nYe bending swains, that dress the flowery vale\\nFor me your tributary stores combine\\nso Creation s heir, the world the world is mine\\nAs some lone miser, visiting his store,\\nBends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o er\\nHoards after hoards his rising raptures fill,\\nYet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still\\n55 Thus to my breast alternate passions rise,\\nPleas d with each good that Heaven to man sup-\\nplies\\n41. School-taught pride i. e., the pride which he feels who\\nhas been taught in the school of the philosophers, especially of\\nthe Stoics.\\n48. The swains, or peasants, bend at their work, which is that\\nof tilling, or dressing the field. For the use of the word dress\\nin such meaning, see Genesis ii. 15.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 47\\nYet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall,\\nTo see the hoard of human bliss so small\\nAnd oft I wish, amidst the scene, to find\\n60 Some spot to real happiness consign d,\\nWhere my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest,\\nMay gather bliss to see my fellows blest.\\nBut where to find that happiest spot below,\\nWho can direct, when all pretend to know\\n65 The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone\\nBoldly proclaims that happiest spot his own\\nExtols the treasures of his stormy seas,\\nAnd his long nights of revelry and ease\\nThe naked negro, panting at the line,\\nl?o Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine,\\nBasks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave,\\nAnd thanks his gods for all the good they gave.\\nSuch is the patriot s boast, where er we roam\\nHis first, best country ever is at home.\\n75 And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare,\\nAnd estimate the blessings which they share,\\nThough patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find\\nAn equal portion dealt to all mankind\\nAs different good, by art or nature given,\\nso To different nations makes their blessings even.\\nNature, a mother kind alike to all,\\nStill grants her bliss at labor s earnest call\\nWith food as well the peasant is supplied\\n57. Prevails, i. e., gets the better of one. Sorrow s fall is anti-\\nthetical to rising raptures above.\\n60. Real must be read as a word of two syllables.\\n69. The phrase crossing the line, of a ship sailing into the\\ntropics, intimates what the line here is.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "48 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nOn Idra s cliffs as Arno s shelvy side\\n85 And, though the rocky-crested summits frown,\\nThese rocks by custom turn to beds of down.\\nFrom art more various are the blessings sent\\nWealth, commerce, honor, liberty, content.\\nYet these each other s power so strong contest,\\n90 That either seems destructive of the rest.\\nWhere wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,\\nAnd honor sinks where commerce long prevails.\\nHence every state, to one lov d blessing prone,\\nConforms and models life to that alone\\n95 Each to the favorite happiness attends,\\nAnd spurns the plan that aims at other ends\\nTill, carried to excess in each domain,\\nThis favorite good begets peculiar pain.\\nBut let us try these truths with closer eyes,\\nioo And trace them through the prospect as it lies.\\nHere for a while, my proper cares resign d,\\nHere let me sit in sorrow for mankind\\nLike yon neglected shrub, at random cast,\\nThat shades the steep, and sighs at every blast.\\n105 Far to the right, where Apennine ascends,\\nBright as the summer, Italy extends\\nIts uplands sloping deck the mountain s side,\\nWoods over woods in gay theatric pride\\nWhile oft some temple s mouldering tops between\\nno With venerable grandeur mark the scene.\\n84. The contrast is between the precipitous side of Idra and\\nthe gently sloping side of Arno.\\n87. The comparison is between Nature, 81-86, and Art, 87, 88.\\n91, 92. These lines illustrate the exact meaning of line 90,\\n98. The pain peculiar to itself.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 49\\ni\\nCould nature s bounty satisfy the breast,\\nThe sons of Italy were surely blest.\\nWhatever fruits in different climes are found,\\nThat proudly rise, or humbly court the ground\\nus Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear,\\nWhose bright succession decks the varied year\\nWhatever sweets salute the northern sky\\nWith vernal lives, that blossom but to die\\nThese, here disporting, own the kindred soil,\\n120 Nor ask luxuriance from the planter s toil\\nWhile sea-born gales their gelid wings expand\\nTo winnow fragrance round the smiling land.\\nBut small the bliss that sense alone bestows,\\nAnd sensual bliss is all the nation knows.\\n125 In florid beauty groves and fields appear,\\nMan seems the only growth that dwindles here.\\nContrasted faults through all his manners reign\\nThough poor, luxurious though submissive, vain\\nThough grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue;\\n130 And even in penance planning sins anew.\\nAll evils here contaminate the mind,\\nThat opulence departed leaves behind.\\nFor wealth was theirs not far remov d the date,\\nWhen commerce proudly flourished through the\\nstate.\\n135 At her command the palace learnt to rise,\\n119. Own, i. e., own the soil to be kindred, or of like kind with\\nthat which is native to them.\\n124. Sensual derives its specific meaning here from sense in\\n1. 123, and must not be taken in an evil significance.\\n127. See The Deserted Village, 1. 74.\\n129. Zealous, for religion.\\n132. That opulence [when it has] departed.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "50 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nAgain the long-fallen column sought the skies\\nThe canvas glow d beyond ev n nature warm,\\nThe pregnant quarry teem d with human form\\nTill, more unsteady thari the southern gale,\\n140 Commerce on other shores display d her sail\\nWhile nought remain d of all that riches gave,\\nBut towns unmann d, and lords without a slave\\nAnd late the nation found, with fruitless skill,\\nIts former strength was but plethoric ill.\\n145 Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied\\nBy arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride\\nFrom these the feeble heart and long-fallen mind\\nAn easy compensation seem to find.\\nHere may be seen, in bloodless pomp array d,\\n150 The pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade\\nProcessions form d for piety and love,\\nA mistress or a saint in every grove.\\nBy sports like these are all their cares beguil d,\\nThe sports of children satisfy the child\\n155 Each nobler aim, represt by long control,\\nNow sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul\\nWhile low delights, succeeding fast behind,\\nIn happier meanness occupy the mind.\\nAs in those domes where Caesars once bore sway,\\n136. The ruins of one age furnish the building materials for\\nanother.\\n139. It was the new enterprise of Prince Henry of Portugal\\nand the Spanish sovereigns that wrested the sceptre of commerce\\nfrom Venice and other Italian states.\\n143. Skill knowledge.\\n144. In the Citizen of the World, Goldsmith says In short,\\nthe state resembled one of those bodies bloated with disease,\\nwhose bulk is only a symptom of its wretchedness. Their for-\\nmer opulence only rendered them more impotent.\\n159. See The Deserted Village, 1. 319.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 51\\nigo Defac d by time and tottering in decay,\\nThere in the ruin, heedless of the dead,\\nThe shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed;\\nAnd, wondering man could want the larger pile,\\nExults, and owns his cottage with a smile.\\n165 My soul, turn from them turn we to survey\\nWhere rougher climes a nobler race display\\nWhere the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread,\\nAnd force a churlish soil for scanty bread.\\nNo product here the barren hills afford,\\n170 But man and steel, the soldier and his sword\\nNo vernal blooms their torpid rocks array,\\nBut winter lingering chills the lap of May\\nNo zephyr fondly sues the mountain s breast,\\nBut meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest.\\n175 Yet still, even here, content can spread a charm,\\nRedress the clime, and all its rage disarm.\\nThough poor the peasant s hut, his feasts though\\nsmall,\\nHe sees his little lot the lot of all\\nSees no contiguous palace rear its head\\n180 To shame the meanness of his humble shed\\nNo costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal\\nTo make him loathe his vegetable meal\\nBut calm, and bred in ignorance and toil,\\nEach wish contracting, fits him to the soil.\\n185 Cheerful, at morn, he wakes from short repose,\\nBreasts the keen air, and carols as he goes\\nWith patient angle trolls the finny deep,\\nOr drives his venturous ploughshare to the steep\\nOr seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way,\\n184. Fits him [self] to the soil.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "52 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n190 And drags the struggling savage into day.\\nAt night returning, every labor sped,\\nHe sits him down, the monarch of a shed\\nSmiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys\\nHis children s looks, that brighten at the blaze\\n195 While his lov d partner, boastful of her hoard,\\nDisplays her cleanly platter on the board\\nAnd haply too some pilgrim, thither led,\\nWith many a tale repays the nightly bed.\\nThus every good his native wilds impart,\\n200 Imprints the patriot passion on his heart\\nAnd ev n those hills that round his mansion rise\\nEnhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies.\\nDear is that shed to which his soul conforms,\\nAnd dear that hill which lifts him to the storms\\n205 And as a child, when scaring sounds molest,\\nClings close and closer to the mother s breast,\\nSo the loud torrent and the whirlwind s roar\\nBut bind him to his native mountains more.\\nSuch are the charms to barren states assign d\\n210 Their wants but few, their wishes all confin d.\\nYet let them only share the praises due\\nIf few their wants, their pleasures are but few\\nFor every want that stimulates the breast\\nBecomes a source of pleasure when redrest.\\n190. This same use of savage for savage beast is fol-\\nlowed by Goldsmith in the Citizen of the World, when he says\\nDrive the reluctant savage into the toils.\\n198. The nightly bed, i. e., the bed which each of such pilgrims\\nmay have for the night. A similar use appears in the petition,\\nGive us this day our daily bread.\\n199, Thus every good [that] his native wilds impart.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 53\\n215 Whence from such lands each pleasing science\\nflies,\\nThat first excites desire, and then supplies\\nUnknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy,\\nTo fill the languid pause with finer joy\\nUnknown those powers that raise the soul to flame,\\n220 Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame\\nTheir level life is but a smouldering fire,\\nUnquenck d by want, unfann d by strong desire\\nUnfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer\\nOn some high festival of once a year,\\n225 In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire,\\nTill, buried in debauch, the bliss expire.\\nBut not their joys alone thus coarsely flow\\nTheir morals, like their pleasures, are but low\\nFor, as refinement stops, from sire to son,\\n230 Unalter d, unimprov d, the manners run\\nAnd love s and friendship s finely pointed dart\\nFall blunted from each indurated heart.\\nSome sterner virtues o er the mountain s breast\\nMay sit, like falcons cowering on the nest\\n235 But all the gentler morals, such as play\\nThrough life s more cultur d walks, and charm the\\nway,\\nThese, far dispers d, on timorous pinions fly,\\nTo sport and flutter in a kinder sky.\\n221. Level, not broken by variety.\\n226. The subjunctive mood was more common in Goldsmith s\\nday than now. Yet we say, Wait till I go.\\n232. The plural form in fall is due to the careful separa-\\ntion of love s and friendship s dart i. e., the dart of love\\nand the dart of friendship.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "54 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nTo kinder skies, where gentler manners reign,\\n240 1 turn and France displays her bright domain.\\nGay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease,\\nPleas d with thyself, whom all the world can please,\\nHow often have I led thy sportive choir,\\nWith tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire\\n245 Where shading elms along the margin grew,\\nAnd f reshen d from the wave the zephyr flew\\nAnd haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still,\\nBut mock d all tune, and marr d the dancer s skill,\\nYet would the village praise my wondrous power,\\n250 And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour.\\nAlike all ages dames of ancient days\\nHave led their children through the mirthful maze\\nAnd the gay grandsire, skill d in gestic lore,\\nHas frisk d beneath the burthen of threescore.\\n255 So blest a life these thoughtless realms display;\\nThus idly busy rolls their world away.\\nTheirs are those arts that mind to mind endear,\\nFor honor forms the social temper here\\nHonor, that praise which real merit gains,\\n260 Or even imaginary worth obtains,\\nHere passes current paid from hand to hand,\\nIt shifts in splendid traffic round the land\\nFrom courts, to camps, to cottages it strays,\\nAnd all are taught an avarice of praise.\\n265 They please, are pleas d they give to get esteem,\\nTill, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.\\n243. For the actual basis of this reminiscence, see the bio-\\ngraphic sketch.\\n265, 266. This as well as the passage it sums up must be taken\\nas an Englishman s judgment, though that of a very acute Eng-\\nlishman.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 55\\nBut while this softer art their bliss supplies,\\nIt gives their follies also room to rise\\nFor praise too dearly lov cl, or warmly sought,\\n270 Enfeebles all internal strength of thought\\nAnd the weak soul, within itself unblest,\\nLeans for all pleasure on another s breast.\\nHence ostentation here, with tawdry art,\\nPants for the vulgar praise which fools impart\\n275 Here vanity assumes her pert grimace,\\nAnd trims her robes of frieze with copper lace\\nHere beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,\\nTo boast one splendid banquet once a year\\nThe mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,\\n280 Nor weighs the solid worth of self -applause.\\nTo men of other minds my fancy flies,\\nEmbosom d in the deep where Holland lies.\\nMethinks her patient sons before me stand,\\nWhere the broad ocean leans against the land,\\n285 And, sedulous to stop the coming tide,\\nLift the tall rampire s artificial pride.\\nOnward methinks, and diligently slow,\\nThe firm connected bulwark seems to grow,\\nSpreads its long arms amidst the watery roar,\\n290 Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore.\\nWhile the pent ocean, rising o er the pile,\\nSees an amphibious world beneath him smile\\nThe slow canal, the yellow-blossom d vale,\\nThe willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail,\\n295 The crowded mart, the cultivated plain,\\nA new creation rescued from his reign.\\n273. The origin of tawdry, which the dictionary will give, is\\nmost curious.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "56 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nThus, while around the wave-subjected soil\\nImpels the native to repeated toil,\\nIndustrious habits in each bosom reign,\\n300 And industry begets a love of gain.\\nHence all the good from opulence that springs,\\nWith all those ills superfluous treasure brings,\\nAre here display d. Their much lov d wealth im-\\nparts\\nConvenience, plenty, elegance, and arts\\n305 But, view them closer, craft and fraud appear\\nEven liberty itself is barter d here.\\nAt gold s superior charms all freedom flies\\nThe needy sell it, and the rich man buys.\\nA land of tyrants, and a den of slaves,\\n310 Here wretches seek dishonorable graves,\\nAnd calmly bent, to servitude conform,\\nDull as their lakes that slumber in the storm.\\nHeavens how unlike their Belgic sires of old\\nRough, poor, content, ungovernably bold\\n315 War in each breast, and freedom on each brow\\nHow much unlike the sons of Britain now\\nFir d at the sound, my genius spreads her wing,\\nAnd flies where Britain courts the western spring\\nWhere lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,\\n306. Referring possibly to the custom which permitted par-\\nents to sell their children s labor for a term of years.\\n309. In the Citizen of the World, exactly the same words re-\\ncur A nation once famous for setting the world an example\\nof freedom is now become a land of tyrants and a den of slaves.\\n318. So in the Citizen of the World, in praise of Britain: Yet\\nfrom the vernal softness of the air, the verdure of the fields, the\\ntransparency of the streams, and the beauty of the women;", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 57\\n320 And brighter streams than fam d Hydaspes glide.\\nThere all around the gentlest breezes stray,\\nThere gentle music melts on every spray\\nCreation s mildest charms are there combin d\\nExtremes are only in the master s mind\\n325 Stern o er each bosom reason holds her state,\\nWith daring aims irregularly great\\nPride in their port, defiance in their eye,\\nI see the lords of human kind pass by\\nIntent on high designs, a thoughtful band,\\n330 By forms unf ashion d, fresh from Nature s hand,\\nFierce in their native hardiness of soul,\\nTrue to imagin d right, above control\\nWhile even the peasant boasts these rights to\\nscan,\\nAnd learns to venerate himself as man.\\n335 Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictur d\\nhere,\\nThine are those charms that dazzle and endear\\nToo blest, indeed, were such without alloy\\nBut, foster d even by freedom, ills annoy.\\nThat independence Britons prize too high\\n340 Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie\\nThe self-dependent lordlings stand alone,\\nAll claims that bind and sweeten life unknown.\\nHere, by the bonds of nature feebly held,\\nMinds combat minds, repelling and repell d\\nhere love might sport among painted lawns and warbling 1\\ngroves, and carol upon gales wafting at once both fragrance and\\nharmony.\\n330. Mr. Rolfe felicitously calls attention to a line in Tenny-\\nson s Locksley Hall\\nCursed be the sickly forms that err from honest nature s rule.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "58 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n345 Ferments arise, imprison d factions roar,\\nReprest ambition struggles round her shore\\nTill, over-wrought, the general system feels\\nIts motions stop, or frenzy fire the wheels.\\nNor this the worst. As nature s ties decay,\\n350 As duty, love, and honor fail to sway,\\nFictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law,\\nStill gather strength, and force unwilling awe.\\nHence all obedience bows to these alone,\\nAnd talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown\\n355 Till time may come, when, stript of all her charms,\\nThe land of scholars, and the nurse of arms,\\nWhere noble stems transmit the patriot flame,\\nWhere kings have toil d and poets wrote for fame,\\nOne sink of level avarice shall lie,\\n360 And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonor d die.\\nYet think not, thus when Freedom s ills I state,\\nI mean to flatter kings, or court the great\\nYe powers of truth, that bid my soul aspire,\\nFar from my bosom drive the low desire\\n365 And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel\\nThe rabble s rage, and tyrant s angry steel\\nThou transitory flower, alike undone\\n345. It is extremely difficult to induce a number of free beings\\nto co-operate for their mutual benefits every possible advantage\\nwill necessarily be sought, and every attempt to procure it must\\nbe attended with a new fermentation. Citizen of the World.\\n357. Stems, i. e., families.\\n362. In the Preface to his History of England, Goldsmith again\\nsays In the things I have hitherto written, I have neither\\nallured the vanity of the great by flattery, nor satisfied the ma-\\nlignity of the vulgar by scandal but have endeavoured to get\\nan honest reputation by liberal pursuits.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 59\\nBy proud contempt, or favor s fostering sun,\\nStill may thy blooms the changeful clime endure\\n370 1 only would repress them to secure\\nFor just exj erience tells, in every soil,\\nThat those who think must govern those that toil;\\nAnd all that Freedom s highest aims can reach,\\nIs but to lay proportion d loads on each.\\n375 Hence, should one order disproportion^ grow,\\nIts double weight must ruin all below.\\nOh, then how blind to all that truth requires,\\nWho think it freedom when a part aspires\\nCalm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms,\\n380 Except when fast approaching danger warms\\nBut when contending chiefs blockade the throne,\\nContracting regal power to stretch their own\\nWhen I behold a factious band agree\\nTo call it freedom when themselves are free;\\n385 Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw,\\nLaws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law\\nThe wealth of climes, where savage nations roam,\\nPillag d from slaves to purchase slaves at home\\n382. It is not yet decided in politics, whether the diminution\\nof kingly power in England tends to increase the happiness or\\nfreedom of the people. For my own part, from seeing the bad\\neffects of the tyranny of the great in those republican states\\nthat pretend to be free, I cannot help wishing that our monarchs\\nmay still be allowed to enjoy the power of controlling the en-\\ncroachments of the great at home. Preface to History of\\nEngland.\\nIt is the interest of the great to diminish kingly power as\\nmuch as possible. Vicar of Wakefield.\\n386. What they may then expect may be seen by turning our\\neyes to Holland, Genoa, or Venice, where the laws govern the\\npoor, and the rich govern the law. Vicar of Wakefield, ch. xix.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "60 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nFear, pity, justice, indignation, start,\\n390 Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart\\nTill, half a patriot, half a coward grown,\\nI fly from petty tyrants to the throne.\\nYes, Brother, curse with me that baleful hour,\\nWhen first ambition struck at regal power;\\n395 And thus polluting honor in its source,\\nGave wealth to sway the mind with double force.\\nHave we not seen, round Britain s peopled shore,\\nHer useful sons exchang d for useless ore\\nSeen all her triumphs but destruction haste,\\n400 Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste\\nSeen opulence, her grandeur to maintain,\\nLead stern depopulation in her train,\\nAnd over fields where scatter d hamlets rose,\\nIn barren, solitary pomp repose\\n405 Have we not seen, at pleasure s lordly call,\\nThe smiling, long frequented village fall\\nBeheld the duteous son, the sire decay d,\\nThe modest matron, and the blushing maid,\\nForc d from their homes, a melancholy train,\\n410 To traverse climes beyond the western main\\nWhere wild Oswego spreads her swamps around,\\nAnd Niagara stuns with thundering sound\\n396. Gave [to] wealth. Here, in grammatical phrase,\\nwealth is the indirect, and to sway, etc., the direct object.\\n397. The thought in the passage which follows is repeated in\\nThe Deserted Village.\\n411. Oh let me fly a land that spurns the brave,\\nOswego s dreary shores shall be my grave.\\nThrenodia Augustalis, Goldsmith.\\n412. This pronunciation is still common in England and com-\\nmends itself as more rotund and sonorous than our sharper\\nNiag ara.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELLER. 61\\nEven now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays\\nThrough tangled forests, and through dangerous\\nways\\n415 Where beasts with man divided empire claim,\\nAnd the brown Indian marks with murderous aim\\nThere, while above the giddy tempest flies,\\nAnd all around distressful yells arise,\\nThe pensive exile, bending with his woe,\\n420 To stop too fearful, and too faint to go,\\nCasts a long look where England s glories shine,\\nAnd bids his bosom sympathize with mine.\\nVain, very vain, my weary search to find\\nThat bliss which only centres in the mind\\n425 Why have I stray d from pleasure and repose,\\nTo seek a good each government bestows\\nIn every government, though terrors reign,\\nThough tj^rant kings or tyrant laws restrain,\\nHow small, of all that human hearts endure,\\n430 That part which laws or kings can cause or cure\\nStill to ourselves in every place consign d,\\nOur own felicity we make or find\\nWith secret course, which no loud storms annoy,\\nGlides the smooth current of domestic joy.\\n435 The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,\\nLuke s iron crown, and Damiens bed of steel,\\n420. One of Dr. Johnson s lines.\\n427. Every mind seems capable of entertaining a certain\\nquantity of happiness, which no constitutions can increase, no\\ncircumstances alter, and entirely independent on fortune.\\nCitizen of the World.\\n436. George and Luke Dosa were two brothers who headed an\\nunsuccessful revolt against the Hungarian nobles at the opening\\nof the sixteenth century and George (not Luke) underwent the\\ntorture of the red-hot iron-crown, as a punishment for allowing", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "62 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nTo men remote from power but rarely known,\\nLeave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own.\\nhimself to be proclaimed king of Hungary, 1513, by the rebel-\\nlious peasants. See Biographie Universelle, xi. 604. The two\\nbrothers belonged to one of the native races of Transylvania,\\ncalled Szecklers or Zecklers. Forster s Goldsmith, i. 395,\\n(ed. 1854.) Cunningham.\\nRobert Frangois Damiens was put to death with revolting\\nbarbarity, in the year 1757, for an attempt to assassinate Louis\\nXV. Cunningham.\\n438. Dr. Johnson wrote the last ten lines, save lines 435, 436.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "EDWIN AND ANGELINA:\\nA BALLAD.\\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nOne of Goldsmith s friends was Thomas Percy, ed-\\nitor and sometimes author of a famous book, Reliques\\nof Ancient English Poetry. The book is notable as\\nmarking a revival in taste, for Bishop Percy pointed\\nout the charm and rude beauty which lay in native,\\nspontaneous poetry, despised by English readers as\\nhaving nothing in common with what was called elo-\\nquent literature. But Bishop Percy did not always\\nprint the old ballads just as he heard them he could\\nnot quite trust them to people, and therefore touched\\nthem up now and then, or wrote parts to fill out, and\\nsometimes tried his hand at a new one in imitation of\\nthe old. Goldsmith and he had many talks on bal-\\nlads, and as a consequence Goldsmith wrote and read\\nto him the ballad here printed. It fell into the hands\\nof the Countess of Northumberland whose husband\\nwas Percy s patron, and in 1764, shortly after it was\\nwritten, it was privately printed, for the amuse-\\nment as the title-page reads, of the Countess of\\nNorthumberland. Two years later Goldsmith intro-\\nduced it into the Vicar of Wakefield under the\\ntitle, The Hermit. Mr. Forster, who examined the\\nrare leaflet containing the poem as first printed, re-\\nmarks It has a value independent of its rarity, in", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "64 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nits illustration of Goldsmith s habit of elaboration and\\npainstaking in the correction of his verse. By com-\\nparing it with what was afterwards published, we per-\\nceive that even the gentle opening line has been an\\nafterthought that four stanzas have been rewritten\\nand that the two which originally stood last have\\nbeen removed altogether. These, for their simple\\nbeauty of expression, it is worth while here to pre-\\nserve. The action of the poem having closed without\\nthem, they were on better consideration rejected and\\nyoung writers should meditate such lessons. Posterity\\nhas always too much upon its hands to attend to what\\nis irrelevant or needless and none so well as Gold-\\nsmith seems to have known that the writer who would\\nhope to live must live by the perfection of his style,\\nand by the cherished and careful beauty of unsuper-\\nfluous writing.\\nHere amidst sylvan bowers we 11 rove,\\nFrom lawn to woodland stray\\nBlest as the songsters of the grove\\nAnd innocent as they.\\nTo all that want, and all that wail,\\nOur pity shall be given\\nAnd when this life of love shall fail,\\nWe 11 love again in heaven.\\nA writer in the newspapers charged Goldsmith with\\nhaving copied his ballad from one of Percy s, and the\\npoet, in a letter to the printer of the St. James s\\nGazette, answered the charge as follows\\nAnother correspondent of yours accuses me of\\nhaving taken a ballad, I published some time ago,\\nfrom one by the ingenious Mr. Percy. I do not think\\n1 The Friar of Orders Gray.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 65\\nthere is any great resemblance between the two pieces\\nin question. If there be any, his ballad is taken from\\nmine. I read it to Mr. Percy some years ago and he\\n(as we both considered these things as trifles at best)\\ntold me with his usual good humor, the next time I\\nsaw him, that he had taken my plan to form the\\nfragments of Shakespeare into a ballad of his own.\\nHe then read me his little Cento, if I may so call it,\\nand I highly approved it. Such petty anecdotes as\\nthese are scarcely worth printing and, were it not\\nfor the busy disposition of some of your correspond-\\nents, the public should never have known that he\\nowes me the hint of his ballad, or that I am obliged\\nto his friendship and learning for communications of\\na much more important nature.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "EDWIN AND ANGELINA.\\nTukn, gentle Hermit of the dale,\\nAnd guide my lonely way,\\nTo where yon taper cheers the vale\\nWith hospitable ray.\\n5 For here forlorn and lost I tread,\\nWith fainting steps and slow\\nWhere wilds, immeasurably spread,\\nSeem lengthening as I go.\\nForbear, my son, the Hermit cries,\\n10 To tempt the dangerous gloom\\nFor yonder faithless phantom flies\\nTo lure thee to thy doom.\\nHere to the houseless child of want\\nMy door is open still\\n15 And though my portion is but scant,\\nI give it with good will.\\nThen turn to-night, and freely share\\nWhate er my cell bestows\\nMy rushy couch and frugal fare,\\n20 My blessing and repose.\\nNo flocks that range the valley free\\nTo slaughter I condemn\\n11. The taper which the stranger saw was a will o the wisp.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "EDWIN AND ANGELINA. 67\\nTaught by that Power that pities me,\\nI learn to pity them\\n25 But from the mountain s grassy side\\nA guiltless feast I bring\\nA scrip with herbs and fruits supplied,\\nAnd water from the spring.\\nThen, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego\\n30 All earth-born cares are wrong\\nMan wants but little here below,\\nNor wants that little long.\\nSoft as the dew from heaven descends\\nHis gentle accents fell\\n35 The modest stranger lowly bends\\nAnd follows to the cell.\\nFar in a wilderness obscure\\nThe lonely mansion lay\\nA refuge to the neighboring poor,\\n40 And strangers led astray.\\nNo stores beneath its humble thatch\\ntfcequir d a master s care\\nThe wicket, opening with a latch,\\nReceiv d the harmless pair.\\n45 And now, when busy crowds retire,\\nTo take their evening rest,\\nThe Hermit trimm d his little fire,\\nAnd cheer d his pensive guest\\n31. The running brook, the herbs of the field, can amply sat-\\nisfy nature man wants but little, nor that little long. The Citi-\\nzen of the World, Goldsmith.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "68 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nAnd spread his vegetable store,\\n50 And gayly prest and smil d\\nAnd, skill d in legendary lore,\\nThe lingering hours beguil d.\\nAround, in sympathetic mirth,\\nIts tricks the kitten tries\\n65 The cricket chirrups in the hearth\\nThe crackling fagot flies.\\nBut nothing could a charm impart\\nTo soothe the stranger s woe\\nFor grief was heavy at his heart,\\n60 And tears began to flow.\\nHis rising cares the Hermit spied,\\nWith answering care opprest\\nAnd whence, unhappy youth, he cried,\\nThe sorrows of thy breast\\n65 From better habitations spurn d,\\nReluctant dost thou rove\\nOr grieve for friendship unreturn d,\\nOr unregarded love\\nAlas the joys that fortune brings\\n70 Are trifling, and decay\\nAnd those who prize the paltry things,\\nMore trifling still than they.\\nAnd what is friendship but a name,\\nA charm that lulls to sleep\\n75 A shade that follows wealth or fame,\\nBut leaves the wretch to weep", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "EDWIN AND ANGELINA. 69\\nAnd love is still an emptier sound.\\nThe modern fair-one s jest\\nOn earth unseen, or only found\\nso To warm the turtle s nest.\\nFor shame, fond youth thy sorrows hush,\\nAnd spurn the sex, he said\\nBut, while he spoke, a rising blush\\nHis lovelorn guest betray d.\\n85 Surpris d, he sees new beauties rise,\\nSwift mantling to the view\\nLike colors o er the morning skies,\\nAs bright, as transient too.\\nThe bashful look, the rising breast,\\n90 Alternate spread alarms\\nThe lovely stranger stands confest\\nA maid in all her charms.\\nAnd, ah forgive a stranger rude,\\nA wretch forlorn, she cried\\n95 Whose feet unhallow d thus intrude\\nWhere heaven and you reside.\\nBut let a maid thy pity share,\\nWhom love has taught to stray\\nWho seeks for rest, but finds despair\\nioo Companion of her way.\\nMy father liv d beside the Tyne,\\nA wealthy lord was he,\\nAnd all his wealth was mark d as mine\\nHe had but only me.\\n80. That is, the turtle-dove s.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "70 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n105 To win me from Ms tender arms,\\nUnnumber d suitors came\\nWho prais d me for imputed charms,\\nAnd felt, or feign d, a flame.\\nEach hour a mercenary crowd\\nno With richest proffers strove\\nAmong the rest young Edwin bow d,\\nBut never talk d of love.\\nIn humble, simplest habit clad,\\nNo wealth or power had he\\n115 Wisdom and worth were all he had,\\nBut these were all to me.\\nAnd when beside me in the dale\\nHe caroll d lays of love,\\nHis breath lent fragrance to the gale,\\n120 And music to the grove.\\nThe blossom opening to the day,\\nThe dews of heaven refin d,\\nCould not of purity display\\nTo emulate his mind.\\n125 The dew, the blossom on the tree,\\nWith charms inconstant shine\\nTheir charms were his, but, woe to me,\\nTheir constancy was mine.\\nFor still I tried each fickle art,\\n130 Importunate and vain\\nAnd while his passion touch d my heart,\\nI triumph d in his pain\\n113. We still speak of a riding-habit.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "EDWIN AND ANGELINA. 71\\nTill, quite dejected with my scorn,\\nHe left me to my pride\\n135 And sought a solitude forlorn,\\nIn secret, where he died.\\nBut mine the sorrow, mine the fault,\\nAnd well my life shall pay\\nI 11 seek the solitude he sought,\\nwo And stretch me where he lay.\\nAnd there forlorn, despairing, hid,\\nI 11 lay me down and die\\nT was so for me that Edwin did,\\nAnd so for him will I.\\n145 Forbid it, Heaven the Hermit cried,\\nAnd clasp d her to his breast\\nThe wondering fair one turn d to chide,\\nT was Edwin s self that prest.\\nTurn, Angelina, ever dear,\\n150 My charmer, turn to see\\nThy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,\\nRestor d to love and thee.\\n44 Thus let me hold thee to my heart,\\nAnd every care resign\\n155 And shall we never, never part,\\nMy life my all that s mine?\\n44 No, never from this hour to part,\\nWe 11 live and love so true\\nThe sigh that rends thy constant heart\\nwo Shall break thy Edwin s too.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "EETALIATION.\\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE.\\nAfter Goldsmith s death the lines entitled Retali-\\nation were published. They were incomplete, and\\nthey appear to have been written at different times.\\nIndeed it was averred that the poem as originally de-\\nsigned by the poet came greatly to exceed his original\\nintention. But against what was the poem in retalia-\\ntion It will be remembered that his associates never\\ncould quite reconcile Goldsmith s writings, especially\\nhis great poems, with his awkward, blundering ways.\\nThey seem to have been tempted to measure the poet\\nby the man, instead of the man by the poet. At any\\nrate they could not resist trying their wit on him, and\\nGarrick, the great actor, in particular, was persistent\\nin his rather ill-mannered treatment of Goldsmith,\\nand here is an account in Garrick s handwriting of the\\norigin of the poem\\nAs the cause of writing the following printed\\npoem called Retaliation, has not yet been fully ex-\\nplained, a person concerned in the business begs leave\\nto give the following just and minute account of the\\nwhole affair.\\nAt a meeting 1 of a company of gentlemen, who\\nwere well known to each other, and diverting them-\\nselves, among many other things, with the peculiar\\noddities of Dr. Goldsmith, who never would allow a\\n1 At the St. James s Coffee-House in St. James s Street.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 73\\nsuperior in any art, from writing poetry down to dan-\\ncing a hornpipe, the Doctor with great eagerness in-\\nsisted upon trying his epigrammatic powers with Mr.\\nGarrick, and each of them was to write the other s\\nepitaph. Mr. Garrick immediately said that his epi-\\ntaph was finished, and spoke the following distich\\nextempore\\nHere lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness call d Noll,\\nWho wrote like an angel, but talk d like poor Poll.\\nGoldsmith, upon the company s laughing very heart-\\nily, grew very thoughtful, and either would not, or\\ncould not, write any thing at that time however, he\\nwent to work, and some weeks after produced the\\nfollowing printed poem called Retaliation, which has\\nbeen much admired, and gone through several edi-\\ntions. The publick in general have been mistaken in\\nimagining that this poem was written in anger by the\\nDoctor; it was just the contrary.\\nWhoever reads the poem will see that if Gold-\\nsmith set out to pay up old scores he ended by draw-\\ning portraits which were full of fine characterization\\nand noble lines. It belongs thus in the class which\\nincludes Leiffh Hunt s Feast of the Poets and\\ni\\nLowell s A Fable for Critics.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "RETALIATION.\\nOf old, when Scarron his companions invited,\\nEach guest brought his dish, and the feast was\\nunited\\nIf our landlord supplies us with beef and with fish,\\nLet each guest bring himself, and he brings the\\nbest dish\\n5 Our dean shall be venison, just fresh from the\\nplains\\nOur Burke shall be tongue, with the garnish of\\nbrains\\nOur Will shall be wildfowl, of excellent flavor,\\nAnd Dick with his pepper shall heighten the sa-\\nvor\\nOur Cumberland s sweetbread its place shall ob-\\ntain,\\n10 And Douglas is pudding, substantial and plain\\nOur Garrick s a salad for in him we see\\n1. A French comic writer, who died a century or more before\\nthis poem was written.\\n3. The master of the St. James s Coffee-house, where Gold-\\nsmith, and the friends he has characterized in this poem occa-\\nsionally dined.\\n5. Thomas Barnard, Dean of Deny, in Ireland.\\n6. Edmund Burke.\\n7. William Burke, late secretary to General Conway, and mem-\\nber for Bedwin, a kinsman of Edmund.\\n8. Richard Burke, a younger brother of Edmund.\\n9. Richard Cumberland, an unimportant man of letters.\\n10. John Douglas, canon of Windsor, afterward Bishop of Car-\\nlisle, and later still of Salisbury.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "RETALIATION. 75\\nOil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree\\nTo make out the dinner, full certain I am\\nThat Ridge is anchovy, and Reynolds is lamb\\n15 That Hickey s a capon, and, by the same rule,\\nMagnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool.\\nAt a dinner so various, at such a repast,\\nWho d not be a glutton, and stick to the last?\\nHere, waiter, more wine let me sit while I m able,\\n20 Till all my companions sink under the table\\nThen, with chaos and blunders encircling my head,\\nLet me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.\\nHere lies the good dean, reunited to earth,\\nWho mixt reason with pleasure, and wisdom with\\nmirth\\n25 If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt,\\nAt least in six weeks I could not find em out\\nYet some have declar d, and it can t be denied em,\\nThat slyboots was cursedly cunning to hide em.\\nHere lies our good Edmund, whose genius was\\nsuch,\\n30 We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much\\nWho, born for the universe, narrow d his mind,\\nAnd to party gave up what was meant for mankind.\\nThough fraught with all learning, yet straining his\\nthroat\\nTo persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a\\nvote\\n14. John Ridge, a member of the Irish Bar.\\n15. Thomas Hickey, an eminent attorney, whose hospitality and\\ngood hnmor acquired him in his club the title of honest Tom\\nHickey.\\n23. Vide page 74.\\n34. Thomas Townshend, a member of Parliament.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "76 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n35 Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refin-\\ning.\\nAnd thought of convincing, while they thought of\\ndining\\nThough equal to all things, for all things unfit\\nToo nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit\\nFor a patriot too cool for a drudge disobedient\\n40 And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.\\nIn short, t was his fate, unemploy d or in place, sir,\\nTo eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.\\nHere lies honest William, whose heart was a mint,\\nWhile the owner ne er knew half the good that\\nwas in t\\n43 The pupil of impulse, it forc d him along,\\nHis conduct still right, with his argument wrong.\\nStill aiming at honor, yet fearing to roam,\\nThe coachman was tipsy, the chariot drove home\\nWould you ask for his merits alas he had none\\nso What was good was spontaneous, his faults were\\nhis own.\\nHere lies honest Richard, whose fate I must sigh\\nat\\nAlas that such frolic should now be so quiet\\nWhat spirits were his what wit and what whim,\\nNow breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb\\n55 Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the ball,\\nNow teasing and vexing, yet laughing at all\\nIn short so provoking a devil was Dick,\\nThat we wish d him full ten times a day at Old\\nNick;\\n54. As Richard Burke broke a leg not long before, this was no\\njoke to him.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "60\\nRETALIATION. 77\\nBut, missing his mirth and agreeable vein,\\nAs often we wish d to have Dick back again.\\nHere Cumberland lies, having acted his parts,\\nThe Terence of England, the mender of hearts\\nA flattering painter, who made it his care\\nTo draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.\\n65 His gallants are all faultless, his women divine,\\nAnd comedy wonders at being so fine\\nLike a tragedy queen he has dizen d her out,\\nOr rather like tragedy giving a rout.\\nHis fools have their follies so lost in a crowd\\n70 Of virtues and feelings, that folly grows proud\\nAnd coxcombs, alike in their failings alone,\\nAdopting his portraits, are pleas d with their own.\\nSay, where has our poet this malady caught,\\nOr wherefore his characters thus without fault\\n75 Say, was it that vainly directing his view\\nTo find out men s virtues, and finding them few,\\nQuite sick of pursuing each troublesome elf,\\nHe grew lazy at last, and drew from himself\\nHere Douglas retires from his toils to relax,\\nso The scourge of impostors, the terror of quacks\\nCome, all ye quack bards, and ye quacking divines,\\nCome, and dance on the spot where your tyrant re-\\nclines\\nWhen satire and censure encircled his throne,\\nI fear d for your safety, I fear d for my own\\n85 But now he is gone, and we want a detector,\\nOur Dodds shall be pious, our Kenricks shall lec-\\nture\\n86. Our forefathers had no difficulty in making this line rhyme\\nwith the previous. The Rev. Dr. William Dodd was a fashion-", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "78 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nMacpherson write bombast, and call it a style\\nOur Townshend make speeches, and I shall compile\\nNew Lauders and Bowers the Tweed shall cross\\nover\\n90 No countryman living their tricks to discover\\nDetection her taper shall quench to a spark,\\nAnd Scotchman meet Scotchman, and cheat in the\\ndark.\\nHere lies David Garrick, describe me who can,\\nAn abridgment of all that was pleasant in man\\n95 As an actor, conf est without rival to shine\\nAs a wit, if not first, in the very first line\\nYet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart,\\nThe man had his failings, a dupe to his art.\\nLike an ill-judging beauty, his colors he spread,\\nioo And beplaster d with rouge his own natural red.\\nOn the stage he was natural, simple, affecting\\nT was only that when he was off, he was acting.\\nWith no reason on earth to go out of his way,\\nHe turn d and he varied full ten times a day\\n105 Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick\\nIf they were not his own by finessing and trick.\\nHe cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack\\nFor he knew, when he pleas d, he could whistle\\nthem back.\\nOf praise a mere glutton, he swallow d what came,\\nno And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame\\nable preacher, but turned out to be a scamp. William Kenrick\\nwas a bitter critic of Goldsmith, and a lecturer on Shakespeare.\\n87. James Macpherson, who persuaded a good many otherwise\\nacute men that the poems he wrote were the work of an ancient\\nbard named Ossian.\\n89. Inferior writers whose errors Dr. Douglas had exposed.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "RETALIATION. 79\\nTill his relish grown callous, almost to disease,\\nWho pepper d the highest was surest to please.\\nBut let us be candid, and speak out our mind,\\nIf dunces applauded, he paid them in kind.\\nus Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, and Woodfalls so grave,\\nWhat a commerce was yours, while you got and you\\ngave!\\nHow did Grub-street re-echo the shouts that you\\nrais d,\\nWhile he was be-Roscius d and you were beprais d\\nBut peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,\\n120 To act as an angel, and mix with the skies.\\nThose poets who owe their best fame to his skill,\\nShall still be his flatterers, go where he will\\nOld Shakespeare receive him with praise and with\\nlove,\\nAnd Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above.\\n125 Here Hickey reclines, a most blunt, pleasant crea-\\nture,\\nAnd slander itself must allow him good nature\\nHe cherish d his friend, and he relish d a bumper,\\nYet one fault he had, and that one was a thumper.\\nPerhaps you may ask if the man was a miser\\n130 1 answer, No, no, for he always was wiser.\\nToo courteous, perhaps, or obligingly flat\\nHis very worst foe can t accuse him of that.\\nPerhaps he confided in men as they go,\\nAnd so was too foolishly honest Ah, no\\n135 Then what was his failing come, tell it, and burn\\nye:\\nHe was could he help it a special attorney.\\n115. Dramatists and dramatic critics.\\n124. Beaumont and Ben Jonson stood just below Shakespeare.\\nKelly would scarcely be admitted to their company.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "80 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nHere Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind,\\nHe has not left a wiser or better behind.\\nHis pencil was striking, resistless, and grand\\n140 His manners were gentle, complying, and bland\\nStill born to improve us in every part,\\nHis pencil our faces, his manners our heart.\\nTo coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering,\\nWhen they judg d without skill, he was still hard\\nof hearing\\n145 When they talk d of their Raphaels, Correggios,\\nand stuff,\\nHe shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff.\\nBy flattery unspoil d\\nPOSTSCRIPT.\\nHere Whitefoord reclines, and deny it who can,\\nThough he merrily liv d, he is now a grave man\\n150 Rare compound of oddity, frolic, and fun\\nWho relish d a joke, and rejoic d in a pun\\nWhose temper was generous, open, sincere\\nA stranger to flattery, a stranger to fear\\nWho scatter d around wit and humor at will\\n155 Whose daily bon mots half a column might fill\\nA Scotchman, from pride and from prejudice free,\\nA scholar, yet surely no pedant was he.\\n146. Sir Joshua was excessively deaf and obliged to use an ear\\ntrumpet.\\n147. Here Goldsmith in his last sickness laid down his pen.\\n148. The lines that follow were found later and not printed until\\nafter the fourth edition of the poem had been published. They\\nappear to have been a draft intended to be worked in at some\\npoint, no one can say where. Whitefoord was a wine merchant\\nand dabster in letters.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "RETALIATION. 81\\nWhat pity, alas that so liberal a mind\\nShould so long be to newspaper essays confin d\\ni6o Who perhaps to the summit of science could soar,\\nYet content if the table he set in a roar\\nWhose talents to fill any station were fit,\\nYet happy if Woodfall confess d him a wit.\\nYe newspaper witlings ye pert scribbling folks\\n165 Who copied his squibs, and re-echoed his jokes\\nYe tame imitators, ye servile herd, come,\\nStill follow your master, and visit his tomb\\nTo deck it, bring with you festoons of the vine,\\nAnd copious libations bestow on his shrine\\ni7o Then strew all around it (you can do no less)\\nCross readings, ship news, and mistakes of the\\npress.\\nMerry Whitefoord, farewell for thy sake I admit\\nThat a Scot may have humor, I had almost said\\nwit\\nThis debt to thy memory I cannot refuse,\\n175 Thou best humor d man with the worst humor d\\nmuse.\\n163. H. S. Woodfall was editor of the Public Advertiser.\\n171. Whitefoord had frequently indulged the town with humor-\\nous pieces under those titles in the Public Advertiser.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD\\nDOG.\\nThis poem was printed first in The Vicar of Wakefield.\\nGood people all, of every sort,\\nGive ear unto my song\\nAnd if you find it wondrous short,\\nIt cannot hold you long.\\n5 In Islington there was a man\\nOf whom the world might say,\\nThat still a godly race he ran,\\nWhene er he went to pray.\\nA kind and gentle heart he had,\\n10 To comfort friends and foes\\nThe naked every day he clad,\\nWhen he put on his clothes.\\nAnd in that town a dog was found,\\nAs many dogs there be,\\n15 Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,\\nAnd curs of low degree.\\nThis dog and man at first were friends\\nBut when a pique began,\\nThe dog, to gain his private ends,\\n20 Went mad, and bit the man.\\n5 The name of this place, the residence of the famous Tom, is\\npronounced Iz lington.", "height": "3136", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.\\nAround from all the neighboring streets\\nThe wondering people ran,\\nAnd swore the dog had lost his wits,\\nTo bite so good a man.\\n25 The wound it seem d both sore and sad\\nTo every Christian eye\\nAnd while they swore the dog was mad,\\nThey swore the man would die.\\n30\\nBut soon a wonder came to light,\\nThat show d the rogues they lied\\nThe man recover d of the bite\\nThe dog it was that died.", "height": "3153", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "AN ELEGY ON THE GLOEY OF HEE SEX,\\nMES. MAEY BLAIZE.\\nGood people all, with one accord,\\nLament for Madam Blaize,\\nWho never wanted a good word\\nFrom those who spoke her praise.\\n5 The needy seldom pass d her door,\\nAnd always found her kind\\nShe freely lent to all the poor\\nWho left a pledge behind.\\nShe strove the neighborhood to please,\\n10 With manners wondrous winning\\nAnd never follow d wicked ways\\nUnless when she was sinning.\\nAt church, in silks and satins new,\\nWith hoop of monstrous size,\\n15 She never slumber d in her pew\\nBut when she shut her eyes.\\nHer love was sought, I do aver,\\nBy twenty beaux and more\\nThe king himself has follow d her\\n20 When she has walk d before.\\nBut now her wealth and finery fled,\\nHer hangers-on cut short all", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX. 85\\nThe doctors found, when she was dead\\nHer last disorder mortal.\\n25 Let us lament in sorrow sore\\nFor Kent-street well may say,\\nThat had she liv d a twelvemonth more\\nShe had not died to-day.", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "THE CLOWN S EEPLY.\\nJohn Trott was desir d by two witty peers\\nTo tell them the reason whv asses had ears.\\nAn t please you, quoth John, u I m not given to\\nletters,\\nNor dare I pretend to know more than my betters\\n5 Howe er, from this time I shall ne er see your\\ngraces,\\nAs I hope to be sav d without thinking on\\nasses.", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "STANZAS ON THE TAKING OF QUEBEC.\\nAmidst the clamor of exulting joys,\\nWhich triumph forces from the patriot heart,\\nGrief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice,\\nAnd quells the raptures which from pleasures\\nstart.\\n5 O Wolfe to thee a streaming flood of woe,\\nSighing we pay, and think e en conquest dear\\nQuebec in vain shall teach our breast to glow,\\nWhilst thy sad fate extorts the heart-wrung tear.\\nAlive the foe thy dreadful vigor fled,\\n10 And saw thee fall with joy-pronouncing eyes\\nYet they shall know thou conquerest, though dead\\nSince from thy tomb a thousand heroes rise.", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "A DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR S BED-\\nCHAMBER.\\nThis is interesting as the first form of some verses which later\\nwere introduced with changes into The Deserted Village.\\nWhere the Red Lion, staring o er the way,\\nInvites each passing stranger that can pay\\nWhere Calvert s butt, and Parson s black cham-\\npagne,\\nRegale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane\\n5 There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,\\nThe Muse found Scroggen stretch d beneath a rug.\\nA window, patch d with paper, lent a ray,\\nThat dimly show d the state in which he lay\\nThe sanded floor that grits beneath the tread\\n10 The humid wall with paltry pictures spread\\nThe royal game of goose was there in view,\\nAnd the twelve rules the royal martyr drew\\nThe seasons, fram d with listing, found a place,\\nAnd brave prince William show d his lampblack\\nface.\\n15 The morn was cold he views with keen desire\\nThe rusty grate unconscious of a fire\\nWith beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor d,\\nAnd five crack d teacups dress d the chimney\\nboard\\nA nightcap deck d his brows instead of bay,\\n20 A cap by night, a stocking all the day\\n14. William, Duke of Cumberland, the hero of Culloden, 1765.\\nfefet", "height": "3213", "width": "1952", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "FAMILIAE QUOTATIONS FROM GOLD-\\nSMITH.\\nIt is doubtful if any English poet, save Gray,\\nhas been quoted so abundantly in proportion to the\\namount he has written, as Goldsmith. Almost eveiy\\nstanza of Gray s Elegy is a familiar quotation, and\\nthe two poems The Deserted Village and The\\nTraveller surely stand next in familiarity. In order\\nto show this emphatically, permission has been ob-\\ntained from Mr. John Bartlett, compiler of that most\\nsatisfactory work Familiar Quotations a Collection\\nof Passages, Phrases and Proverbs traced to their\\nSources in Ancient and Modern Literature, to re-\\nprint here the pages of his book covering the poems\\ncontained in this number of the Riverside Litera-\\nture Series.\\nTHE DESERTED VILLAGE.\\ni Sweet Auburn loveliest village of the plain.\\n13 The hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,\\nFor talking age and whispering lovers made\\n29 The bashful virgin s sidelong looks of love.\\nsi 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,\\nWhere wealth accumulates, and men decay\\nPrinces and lords may flourish, or may fade\\nA breath can make them, as a breath has made", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "90 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nBut a bold peasantry, their country s pride,\\nWhen once destroy d, can never be supplied.\\n6i His best companions, innocence and health\\nAnd his best riches, ignorance of wealth.\\n99 How blest is he who crowns in shades like these\\nA youth of labor with an age of ease\\nno While resignation gently slopes the way\\nAnd, all his prospects brightening to the last,\\nHis heaven commences ere the world be past.\\ni2i The watch-dog s voice that bay d the whispering wind,\\nAnd the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.\\n141 A man he was to all the country dear,\\nAnd passing rich with forty pounds a year.\\n157 Wept o er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,\\nShoulder d his crutch, and shew d how fields were won.\\ni6i Careless their merits or their faults to scan,\\nHis pity gave ere charity began.\\nThus to relieve the wretched was his pride,\\nAnd e en his failings lean d to virtue s side.\\n167 And as a bird each fond endearment tries\\nTo tempt its new-fledg d offspring to the skies,\\nHe tried each art, reprov d each dull delay,\\nAllur d to brighter worlds, and led the way.\\n179 Truth from his lips prevail d with double sway,\\nAnd fools, who came to scoff, remain d to pray.\\n183 Even children follow d, with endearing wile,\\nAnd pluck d his gown, to share the good man s smile.", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. 91\\n189 As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,\\nSwells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,\\nThough round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,\\nEternal sunshine settles on its head.\\nloo Well had the boding tremblers learn d to trace\\nThe day s disasters in his morning face\\nFull well they laugh d, with counterfeited glee,\\nAt all his jokes, for many a joke had he\\nFull well the busy whisper, circling round,\\nConvey d the dismal tidings when he frown d.\\nYet he was kind, or, if severe in aught,\\nThe love he bore to learning was in fault.\\nThe village all declar d how much he knew\\nT was certain he could write, and cipher too.\\n211 In arguing, too, the parson own d his skill,\\nFor even though vanquished he could argue still\\nWhile words of learned length and thundering sound\\nAmaz d the gazing rustics rang d around\\nAnd still they gaz d, and still the wonder grew\\nThat one small head could carry all he knew.\\n223 Where village statesmen talk d with looks profound,\\nAnd news much older than their ale went round.\\n227 The whitewash d wall, the nicely sanded floor,\\nThe varnish d clock that click d behind the door\\nThe chest contriv d a double debt to pay,\\nA bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.\\n232\\n2 The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose.\\n263 To me more dear, congenial to my heart,\\nOne native charm, than all the gloss of art.\\n263 And even while fashion s brightest arts decoy,\\nThe heart, distrusting, ask if this be joy.", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "92 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n329 Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,\\nSweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.\\n343 Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,\\nWhere wild Altama murmurs to their woe.\\nss3 In all the silent manliness of grief.\\n385 O Luxury thou curst by Heaven s decree\\n413 Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe,\\nThat found st me poor at first, and keep st me so.\\nTHE TRAVELLER.\\ni Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,\\nOr by the lazy Scheldt, or wandering Po.\\n7 Where er I roam, whatever realms to see,\\nMy heart untravell d fondly turns to thee\\nStill to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,\\nAnd drags at each remove a lengthening chain.\\n22 And learn the luxury of doing good.\\n26 Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view.\\n42 These little things are great to little man.\\nso Creation s heir, the world the world is mine\\nre Such is the patriot s boast, where er we roam\\nHis first, best country ever is at home.\\n9i Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,\\nAnd honor sinks where commerce long prevails.", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. 93\\n126 Man seems the only growth that dwindles here.\\ni3r The canvas glow d beyond ev n nature warm,\\nThe pregnant quarry teem d with human form.\\n153 By sports like these are all their cares beguil d,\\nThe sports of children satisfy the child.\\n172 But winter lingering chills the lap of May.\\ni8s Cheerful, at morn, he wakes from short repose,\\nBreasts the keen air, and carols as he goes.\\n2or So the loud torrent and the whirlwind s roar\\nBut bind him to his native mountains more.\\n25i Alike all ages dames of ancient days\\nHave led their children through the mirthful maze\\nAnd the gay grandsire, skill d in gestic lore,\\nHas frisk d beneath the burthen of threescore.\\n2M They please, are pleas d they give to get esteem,\\nTill, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.\\n282 Embosom d in the deep where Holland lies.\\nMethinks her patient sons before me stand,\\nWhere the broad ocean leans against the land.\\n327 Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,\\nI see the lords of human kind pass by.\\n35G The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms.\\n371 For just experience tells, in every soil,\\nThat those who think must govern those that toil.\\nsee Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law.", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "94 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\n409 Forc d from their homes, a melancholy train.\\nTo traverse climes beyond the western main\\nWhere wild Oswego spreads her swamps around,\\nAnd Niagara stuns with thundering sound.\\n423 Vain, very vain, my weary search to find\\nThat bliss which only centres in the mind.\\n436 Luke s iron crown, and Damiens bed of steel.\\nRETALIATION.\\nii Our Garrick s a salad for in him we see\\nOil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree\\n24 Who mixt reason with pleasure, and wisdom with\\nmirth\\nIf he had any faults, he has left us in doubt.\\n31 Who, born for the universe, narrow d his mind,\\nAnd to party gave up what was meant for mankind.\\nThough fraught with all learning, yet straining his\\nthroat\\nTo persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote\\nWho, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,\\nAnd thought of convincing while they thought of din-\\ning\\nThough equal to all things, for all things unfit\\nToo nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit.\\n46 His conduct still right, with his argument wrong.\\n63 A flattering painter, who made it his care\\nTo draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.\\na*? Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can,\\nAn abridgment of all that was pleasant in man.", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS. 95\\n9R As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.\\n101 On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting\\nT was only that when he was off he was acting.\\nlor He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack\\nFor he knew, when he pleas d, he could whistle them\\nback.\\nii2 Who pepper d the highest was surest to please.\\n145 When they talk d of their Raphaels, Correggios, and\\nstuff,\\nHe shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff.\\nPostscript.\\nir5 Thou best humor d man, with the worst humor d\\nMuse.\\nAN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.\\nA kind and gentle heart he had,\\nio To comfort friends and foes\\nThe naked every day he clad,\\nWhen he put on his clothes.\\nAnd in that town a dog was found,\\nAs many dogs there be,\\n15 Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,\\nAnd curs of low degree.\\nThe dog, to gain his private ends,\\n20 Went mad, and bit the man.\\nThe man recover d of the bite\\nThe dog it was that died.", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "96 OLIVER GOLDSMITH.\\nAN ELEGY ON MRS. MARY BLAIZE.\\ni Good people all, with one accord,.\\nLament for Madam Blaize,\\nWho never wanted a good word\\nFrom those who spoke her praise.\\nThe king himself has f ollow d her\\n20 When she has walk d before.\\nDESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR S BED-CHAMBER.\\nA nightcap deck d his brows instead of bay,\\n20\\nA cap by night, a stocking all the day\\nLBAg 33", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "C^e iSitoergiDe ilttcrature erte\\n[A list of the first fifty numbers is given on the next page.]\\n51, 52. Washington Irving Essays from the Sketch Book.\\n[51.] Rip Van Winkle and other American Essays. [52.] The Voyage and other\\nEnglish Essays. In two parts.f\\n53. Scott s Lady of the Lake. Edited by W. J. Bolfe. With\\ncopious notes and numerous illustrations. (Double Number, 30 cents. Also, in\\nRolfe s Students Series, cloth, to Teachers, 03 cents.)\\n54. Bryant s Sella, Thanatopsis, and Other Poems.\\n55. Shakespeare s Merchant of Venice. Edited for School Use\\nby Samuel Thurber, Master in the Girls High School, Boston.**\\n56. Webster s First Bunker Hill Oration, and the Oration\\non Adams and Jefferson.\\n57. Dickens s Christmas Carol. With Notes and a Biography.\\n58. Dickens s Cricket on the Hearth. [Nos. 57 and 58 also in one\\nvolume, linen covers, 40 cents.]\\n59. Verse and Prose for Beginners in Reading.**\\n60. 61. The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. In two parts.\\n62. John Fiske s War of Independence. With Maps and a Bio-\\ngraphical Sketch. (Double Number, 30 cents linen covers, 40 cents.)\\n63. Longfellow s Paul Revere s Ride, and Other Poems*\\n64. 65, 66. Tales from Shakespeare. Edited by Charles and\\nMart Lamb. In three parts.\\n[The three parts also in one volume, linen covers, 50 cents.]\\n67. Shakespeare s Julius Caesar*\\n68. Goldsmith s Deserted Village, The Traveller, and Other\\nPoems.\\n69. Hawthorne s Old Manse, and A Few Mosses*\\n70. Milton s L Allegro, II Penseroso, and Other Poems.\\n11 and 63 also in one volume, linrn covers, 40 cents likewise 40 and 69 and 55 and\\n67. Also bound in linen covers, 25 cents. Also in one volume, linen covers, 40\\nEXTRA NUMBERS.\\nA. American Authors and their Birthdays. Programmes and\\nSuggestions for the Celebration of the Birthdays of Authors. By A. S. Roe.\\nJ5 Portraits and Biographical Sketches of Twenty American\\nAuthors.\\nC A Longfellow Night. A Short Sketch of the Poet s Life, with\\nsongs and recitations from his works. For the Use of Catholic Schools and\\nCatholic Literary Societies. By Katharine A. O Keeffe.\\nD Literature in School The Place of Literature in Common School\\nEducation Nursery Classics in School American Classics in School. By\\nHorace E. Scudder.\\nE Harriet Beecher Stowe. Dialogues and Scenes.\\njF Longfellow Leaflets. (Each a Double Number, 30 cents; linen\\nWhittier Leaflets. covers, 40 cents.) Poems and Prose\\nM Holmes Leaflets. Passages for Beading and Becitation.\\n1 The Riverside Manual for Teachers, containing Suggestions\\nand Illustrative Lessons leading up to Primary Reading. By I. F. Hall.\\nK The Riverside Primer and Reader. (Special Number.)\\nIn paper covers, with cloth back, 25 cents. In strong linen binding, 30 cents.\\nL The Riverside Song Book. Containing Classic American\\nPoems set to Standard Music. (Double Number, 30 cents; boards, 40 cents.)\\nM Lowell s Fable for Critics. With Outline Portraits of Au-\\nthors. (Double Number, 30 cents.)\\nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY.", "height": "3197", "width": "1964", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "Clje Bibersfae literature ^erte\\n(Vith Introductions, Notes, Historical Sketches, and Biographical Sketches.\\nEach tegular single number, in paper covers, 15 cents.\\n1. Longfellow s Evangeline.** J}\\n2. Longfellow s Courtship of Miles Standish; Elizabeth.**\\n3. Longfellow s Courtship of Miles Standish. Dramatized.\\n4. Whittier s Snow-Bound, and Other Poems.** JJ\\n5. Whittier s Mabel Martin, and Other Poems*\\n6. Holmes s Grandmother s Story of Bunker Hill Battle, etc.\\n7\u00e2\u0080\u009e 8, 9. Hawthorne s True Stories from New England His-\\ntory. 1620-1803. In three parts.t\\n30. Hawthorne s Biographical Stories. With Questions\\n11. Longfellow s Children s Hour, and Other Selections.*\\n12. Studies in Longfellow. Containing- Thirty -Two Topics for\\nStudy, with Questions and References relating to each Topic.\\nIS, 14. Longfellow s Song of Hiawatha. In two parts. J\\n15. Lowell s Under the Old Elm, and Other Poems.*\\n16. Bayard Taylor s Lars a Pastoral of Norway.\\n17. 18. Hawthorne s Wonder-Book. In two parts. J\\n19, 20. Benjamin Franklin s Autobiography. In two parts. J\\n21. Benjamin Franklin s Poor Richard s Almanac, etc.\\n22, 23. Hawthorne s Tanglewood Tales. In two parts. J\\n24. Washington s Rules of Conduct, Letters and Addresses.**\\n25, 26. Longfellow s Golden Legend. In two parts.J\\n27. Thoreau s Succession of Forest Trees, Sounds, and Wild\\nApples. With a Biographical Sketch by R. W. Emerson.\\n28. John Burroughs s Birds and Bees.*\\n29. Hawthorne s Little Daffy downdilly, and Other Stories.*\\n30. Lowell s Vision of Sir Launfal, and Other Pieces. fj\\n31. Holmes s My Hunt after the Captain, and Other Papers.\\n32. Abraham Lincoln s Gettysburg Speech, and Other Papers.\\n33, 34, 35. Longfellow s Tales of a Wayside Inn. In three parts.\\n[The three parts also in one volume, linen covers, 50 cents.]\\n36. John Burroughs s Sharp Eyes, and Other Papers\\n37c Charles Dudley Warner s A-Hunting of the Deer, etc.**\\n38. Longfellow s Building of the Ship, and Other Poems.\\n39c Lowell s Books and Libraries, and Other Papers.\\n40. Hawthorne s Tales of the White Hills, and Sketches\\n4 Whittier s Tent on the Beach.\\n42. Emerson s Fortune of the Republic, and Other Essays,\\nincluding The American Scholar.\\n43. Ulysses among the Phseacians. From W. C. Bryant s Trans-\\nlation of Homer s Odyssey.\\n44. Edgeworth s Waste Not, Want Not, and Barring Out.\\n45. Macaulay s Lays of Ancient Rome.\\n46. Old Testament Stories in Scripture Language. From th\u00c2\u00ab\\nDispersion at Babel to the Conquest of Canaan.\\n47. 48. Fables and Folk Stories. Second Reader Grade\\nPhrased by Horace E. Scudder. In two parts.J\\n49, 50. Hans Andersen s Stories. In two parts.J\\n29 and 10 also in one volume, linen covers, 40 cents j likewise 28 and 36, 4 and\\n5, 15 and 30, 40 and 69, and 11 and 63.\\nAlso bound in linen covers, 25 cents.\\nf Also in one volume, linen covers, 45 cents.\\nt Also in one volume, linen covers, 40 cents.\\ntt 1 4, and 30 also in one volume, linen covers, 50 cents.\\nContinued on the inside of this cover.\\nHOUGHTON. MIFFLIN AND COMPANY.", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "Deacidified using the Bookkeeper procesi\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nTreatment Date: March 2009\\nPreservationTechnologiei\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATIOI\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 1 6066\\nn r A\\\\ 77Q.9111", "height": "3213", "width": "1996", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3208", "width": "1865", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3400", "width": "2117", "jp2-path": "desertedvillaget01gold_0104.jp2"}}