The deserted village, with notes and a brief sketch of the life of Goldsmith by C.P. Mason

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Charles Peter Mason
1865
 

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Page 1 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed: And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground And sleights of art and feats of strength went round.
Page 6 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 5 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Page 4 - The sober herd that low'd to meet their young, The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind — These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
Page 9 - Hoards e'en beyond the miser's wish abound, And rich men flock from all the world around. Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name That leaves our useful products still the same. Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride...
Page 9 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Page 6 - And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd, The reverend champion stood. At his control, Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Page 7 - There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school : A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew ; Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face ; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he...
Page 5 - Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour ; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize. More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
Page 24 - I venerate the man, whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause.

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