65

Grow firm, and gain a more compacted tone;
The greener juices, are by toil subdu'd,
Mellow'd and subtiliz'd, the vapid old
Expell'd, and all the rancor of the blood.
Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms
Of Nature and the year; come, let us stray
Where chance or fancy leads our roving walk.
Come, while the soft voluptuous breezes fan 70
The fleecy heavens, enwrap the limbs in balm,
And shed a charming langour o'er the soul.
Nor when bright Winter sows with prickly
frost

The vigorous ether, in unmanly warmth
Indulge at home; nor even when Eurus' blasts 75
This way and that convolve the lab'ring woods.
My liberal walks, save when the skies in rain
Or fogs relent, no season should confine
Or to the cloister'd gallery or arcade.

Go, climb the mountain; from th' ethereal

85

Already, see, the deep-mouth'd beagles catch
The tainted mazes; and, on eager sport
Intent, with emulous impatience try
Each doubtful trace. Or, if a nobler prey
Delight you more, go chase the desperate deer;
And through its deepest solitude awake

The vocal forest with the jovial horn.

But if the breathless chase o'er hill and dale 90 Exceed your strength, a sport of less fatigue, Not less delightful, the prolific stream Affords. The crystal rivulet, that o'er A stony channel rolls its rapid maze, Swarms with the silver fry. Such, through the bounds

5

95

Of pastoral Stafford, runs the brawling Trent; Such Eden, sprung from Cumbrian mountains;

such

6

THE SCHOOLMISTRESS

(From The Schoolmistress, 1742)

Ah me! full sorely is my heart forlorn,

To think how modest worth neglected lies! While partial fame doth with her blast adorn Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise;

Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprize! 5 Lend me thy clarion, goddess! let me try To sound the praise of merit, ere it dies; Such as I oft have chanced to espy, Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity.

The school of Pythagoras, who prescribed abstinence from animal food, as did many of the Hindus and Buddhists.

Tho' now he crawl along the ground so low, Nor weeting 19 how the muse should soar on high, Wisheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper-kite may fly.

And this perhaps, who, cens'ring the design, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build,

255

Shall Dennis be! if rigid fates incline,
And many an epic to his rage shall yield;
And many a poet quit th' Aonian field;21
And, sour'd by age, profound he shall ap-
pear,

As he who now with 'sdainful fury thrill'd 260 Surveys mine work; and levels many a sneer, And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, "What stuff is here?"

But now Dan Phoebus22 gains the middle sky,
And liberty unbars her prison-door;
And like a rushing torrent out they fly, 265
And now the grassy cirque han23 cover'd o'er
With boistrous revel-rout and wild uproar;
A thousand ways in wanton rings they run,
Heav'n shield their short-liv'd pastimes, I im-
plore!

For well may freedom, erst so dearly won,270 Appear to British elf more gladsome than the

The hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,

15

For talking age and whispering lovers made!
How often have I blest the coming day
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,

1 Some of the details of the poem are thought to have been suggested by the village of Lissoy in Ireland, where Goldsmith's childhood was spent; but in his account of the desertion of the village, the poet is true to conditions that actually prevailed in England at that time. Throughout the land a new aristocracy of wealth was pushing aside the small farmer (1. 270-280); the harvests were correspondingly diminished; and even the commons, formerly opened to the poor, were shut off, or “denied' (1.307). Luxury, which Goldsmith regards as the source of national corruption, was also increasing in consequence of a rapid growth in material prosperity.

And all the village train from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;

20

While many a pastime circled in the shade,
The young contending as the old survey'd,
And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,
And sleights of art and feats of strength went
round!

And still, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir'd;
The dancing pair that simply sought renown 25
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 sidelong looks of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks

reprove.

30

These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like these,

With sweet succession, taught even toil to please;

These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed;

These were thy charms-but all these charms are fled.

Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, 35 Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;

Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen,
And desolation saddens all thy green:

One only master grasps the whole domain,
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain.
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
But chok'd with sedges, works its weedy way;
Along thy glades, a solitary guest,

40

45

The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries:
Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall;
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's
hand,

Far, far away thy children leave the land.

50

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade A breath can make them, as a breath has made

55

But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintain'd its man: For him light labour spread her wholesome store,

Just gave what life requir'd, but gave no