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By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour;
For other aims his heart had learn'd to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rife.
His house was known to all the vagrant train;
He chid their wand'rings, but reliev'd their pain;
The long-remember'd beggar was his gueft,
Whole beard Descending Twept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims
allow'd;

The broken foldier, kindly bade to ftay,
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away;
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of forrow done,
Shoulder'd his crutch, and fhow'd how fields

were won.

Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,

And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began ).

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And ev❜n his failings lean'd to Virtue's fide;
But, in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd, and felt for all.
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries,
To tempt her new-fledg'd offfpring to the fkies.
He try'd each art, reprov'd each dull delay,
Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Befide the bed, where parting life was laid, And forrow, guilt, and pain, by turns difmay'd, The rev'rend champion ftood. At his controul Despair and anguifh fled the struggling foul;

s) Die Hauptzüge zu dem Gemälde, welches Goldsmith von dem würdigen Landgeiftlichen entwirft, find von feinem Bruder Heinrich Goldsmith entlehnt; an ihn dachte er gewifs auch bei vielen Scenen feines Vicar of Wakefield.

Comfort come down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last fault'ring accents whisper'd praife.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double fway, And fools, who came to fcoff, remain'd to pay. The fervice paft, around the pious man, With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran; Even children follow'd with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to fhare the good man's

fmile.

His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest,
Their welfare pleas'd him, and their

diftreft;

cares

To them his heart, his love, his griefs were

given,

But all his ferious thoughts had reft in heaven.
As fome tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the
storm,

Though round its breast the rolling clouds are
Spread,
Eternal funfhine fettles on its head.

Befide yon ftraggling fence that fkirts the way,
With bloffom'd furze unprofitably gay,
There, in his noify mansion skill'd to rule,
The village master taught his little school:
A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew.
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the bufy whisper circling round
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd;
Yet he was kind; or, if fevere in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault;

The village all declar'd how much he knew;
'Twas certain he could write and cypher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides prefage,
And wen the story ran that he could gauge;
In arguing too the parfon own'd his fkill,
For, even though vanquish'd, he could argue still;
While words of learned length, and thund'ring
found,

Amaz'd the gazing ruftics rang'd around;
And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew,
That my fmall head could carry all he knew.
But paft is all his fame: the very spot
Where many a time he triumph'd is forgot.

Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the fign- poft caught the paffing eye, Low lies that houfe where nut brown draughts infpir'd,

Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retir'd, Where village statesmen talk'd with looks profound,

And news much older than their ale went round.
Imagination fondly ftoops to trace

The parlour fplendors of that festive place;
The white wafh'd wall, the nicely - fanded floor,
The varnish'd clock that click d behind the door;
The cheft contriv'd a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a cheft of drawers by day;
The pictures plac'd for ornament and use,
The twelve good rules!), the royal game of
goofe u);

The hearth, except when winter chill'd the day.
With afpen boughs, and flow'rs, and fennel gay:

t) Deren Verfasser Karl I. von England ift. Man denke fich darunter ein Blatt, auf welchem Lebensregeln befindlich find.

u) Das Gänsefpiel.

While broken tea - cups, wifely kept for fhow,
Rang'd o'er the chimney, gliften'd in a row.
Vain tranfitory splendour! could not all
Reprieve the tott'ring mansion from it's fall!
Obfcure it finks, nor fhall it more impart
An hour's importance to the poor man's heart;
Thither no more the peasant shall repair,
To fweet oblivion of his daily care;

No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale,
No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail;
No more the smith his dufky brow fhall clear,
Relax his pondrous strength, and lean to hear.
The host himself no longer fhall be found
Careful to fee the mantling bliss go round;
Nor the coy maid, half willing to be preft,
Shall kifs the cup to pafs it to the rest x).

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud difdain,
These simple bleffings of the lowly train:
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the glofs of art:
Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play,
The foul adopts, and owns their first - born fway;
Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind,
Unenvy'd unmolested, unconfin'd:

But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,
With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd,
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,
The toiling pleasure fickens into pain;
And, even while fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart diftrufting afks, if this be joy?

Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who furvey The rich man's joys increafe the poor's decay; 'Tis yours to judge how wide, the limits ftand

x) Sie küfst, nach einer unter dem Englischen Landvolk Statt findenden Sitte, mit jüngferlicher Befcheidenheit den Becher, ohne zu trinken.

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Between a fplendid and an happy land.
Proud fwells the tide with loads of freighted ore,
And shouting folly hails them from her shore;
Hoards, even beyond the mifer's wifh, abound,
And rich men flock from all the world around;
Yet count our gains: this wealth is but a name
That leaves our useful product still the fame.
Not fo the lofs: the man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor supply'd;
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds;
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds;
The robe that wraps his limbs in filken floth
Has robb'd the neighbouring fields of half their
growth;

His feat, where folitary Sports are seen,
Indignant fpurns the cottage from the green;
Around the world each needful product flies,
For all the luxuries the world fupplies.
While thus the land adorn'd for pleasure all,
In barren fplendour feebly waits the fall.

As fome fair female unadorn'd and plain, Secure to please while youth confirms her reign, Slights every borrow'd charm that drefs fupplies, Nor fhares with art the triumphs of her eyes; But when those charms are past, for charms are frail,

When time advances, and when lovers fail,
She then fhines forth, folicitous to bless,
In all the glaring impotence of dress.
Thus fares the land, by luxury betray'd,
In nature's limpleft charms at first array'd;
But, verging to decline, its fplendours rife,
Its viftas ftrike, its palaces surprise;

While, fcourg'd by famine from the fmiling land,
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;
And while he finks, without one arm to fave,
The country blooms a garden and a grave!

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