Oliver Goldsmith
An Elegy On The Glory Of Her Sex, Mrs Mary Blaize
Good people all, with one accord Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word,- From those who spoke her praise. The needy seldom passed her door, And always found her kind; She
An Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog
Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man Of whom the world might
When Lovely Woman Stoops To Folly
When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover, To
The Deserted Village
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visits paid, And parting summer’s lingering blooms delayed: Dear lovely bowers of innocence and