The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith. Оливер Голдсмит

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СКАЧАТЬ assign'd;

      Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd. 210

      Yet let them only share the praises due,

      If few their wants, their pleasures are but few;

      For every want that stimulates the breast,

      Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest.

      Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies, 215

      That first excites desire, and then supplies;

      Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy,

      To fill the languid pause with finer joy;

      Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame,

      Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. 220

      Their level life is but a smould'ring fire,

      Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong desire;

      Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer

      On some high festival of once a year,

      In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, 225

      Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire.

       But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow:

      Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low;

      For, as refinement stops, from sire to son

      Unalter'd, unimprov'd the manners run; 230

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      page 13

      And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart

      Fall blunted from each indurated heart.

      Some sterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast

      May sit, like falcons cow'ring on the nest;

      But all the gentler morals, such as play 235

      Through life's more cultur'd walks, and charm the way,

      These far dispers'd, on timorous pinions fly,

      To sport and flutter in a kinder sky.

       To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign,

      I turn; and France displays her bright domain. 240

      Gay sprightly land of mirth and social ease,

      Pleas'd with thyself, whom all the world can please,

      How often have I led thy sportive choir,

      With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire!

      Where shading elms along the margin grew, 245

      And freshen'd from the wave the Zephyr flew;

      And haply, though my harsh touch falt'ring still,

      But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill;

      Yet would the village praise my wondrous power,

      And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour. 250

      Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days

      Have led their children through the mirthful maze,

      And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore,

      Has frisk'd beneath the burthen of threescore.

       So bless'd a life these thoughtless realms display, 255

      Thus idly busy rolls their world away:

      Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear,

      For honour forms the social temper here:

      Honour, that praise which real merit gains,

      Or e'en imaginary worth obtains, 260

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      page 14

      Here passes current; paid from hand to hand,

      It shifts in splendid traffic round the land:

      From courts, to camps, to cottages it strays,

      And all are taught an avarice of praise;

      They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem, 265

      Till, seeming bless'd, they grow to what they seem.

       But while this softer art their bliss supplies,

      It gives their follies also room to rise;

      For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly sought,

      Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; 270

      And the weak soul, within itself unblest,

      Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.

      Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art,

      Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart;

      Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, 275

      And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace;

      Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,

      To boast one splendid banquet once a year;

      The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,

      Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. 280

       To men of other minds my fancy flies,

      Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies.

      Methinks her patient sons before me stand,

      Where the broad ocean leans against the land,

      And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, 285

      Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride.

      Onward, methinks, and diligently slow,

      The firm-connected bulwark seems to grow;

      Spreads its long arms amidst the wat'ry roar,

      Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore; 290

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      page 15

      While the pent ocean rising o'er the pile,

      Sees СКАЧАТЬ