Oliver Goldsmith ( 10 of 116 )
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.
I chose my wife, as she did her wedding gown, for qualities that would wear well.
I chose my wife, as she did her wedding gown, for qualities that would wear well.
Honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
Honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
She who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice, and trains up the other read more
She who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice, and trains up the other to virtue, is a much greater character than the ladies described in romance, whose whole occupation is to murder mankind with shafts from their quiver or their eyes.
Conscience is a coward, and those faults it has not strength to
prevent, it seldom has justice enough to read more
Conscience is a coward, and those faults it has not strength to
prevent, it seldom has justice enough to accuse.
Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the read more
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 burden of threescore.
As ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united
voice of myriads cannot lend the read more
As ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united
voice of myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to
falsehood.
The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While read more
The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please;These were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled. - Deserted Village, The.
A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they read more
A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.
His conduct still right with his argument wrong.
His conduct still right with his argument wrong.
