Oliver Goldsmith

In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill,
For even though vanquished he could argue still.

In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill,
For even though vanquished he could argue still.

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting
'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

The pictures placed for ornament and use,
The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose.

The pictures placed for ornament and use,
The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose.

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where read more

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rug's two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.