Oliver Goldsmith

Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.

Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.

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.

Every pang that rends the heart.

Every pang that rends the heart.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.

Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.