Date: 1764
"Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state / With daring aims irregularly great."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
"Thus every good his native wilds impart / Imprints the patriot passion on his heart, / And even those ills, that round his mansion rise, / Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies, / 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."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
"In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, / Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
"But while this softer art their bliss supplies, / It gives their follies also room to rise; / For praise too dearly loved or warmly sought / Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; / And the weak soul, within itself unblest, / Leans for all pleasure on another's breast."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
"Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil / Impels the native to repeated toil, / Industrious habits in each bosom reign, / And industry begets a love of gain."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1764
"For, as refinement stops, from sire to son / Unaltered, unimproved the manners run; / And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart / Fall blunted from each indurated heart."
preview | full record— Goldsmith, Oliver (1728?-1774)
Date: 1766
"Love laugh'd, and, sure of conquest, wing'd a dart / Unerring, to her undefended heart."
preview | full record— Cunningham, John (1729-1773)
Date: 1766
"To stamp Fraternity on gen'rous hearts: [...] Celestial Charity to-night descends"
preview | full record— Cunningham, John (1729-1773)
Date: 1766
"Fancy leads the fetter'd senses / Captives to her fond controul; / Merit may have rich pretences, / But 'tis Fancy fires the soul."
preview | full record— Cunningham, John (1729-1773)