Oliver Goldsmith

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and
convenience of our lives.

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and
convenience of our lives.

The first time I read an excellent book, it is to me just as if I
had gained a read more

The first time I read an excellent book, it is to me just as if I
had gained a new friend. When I read a book over I have perused
before, it resembles the meeting with an old one.

As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.

As a wit, if not first, in the very first line.

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance read more

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is--to die.

Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose,
Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes.

Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose,
Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes.