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But when those charms are past, for charms are frail,
Where then, ah! where shall poverty reside,
If to the city sped- What waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share; To see ten thousand baneful arts combin'd To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; To see each joy the sons of pleasure know, Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe. Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade, There the pale artist plies the sickly trade; Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps display, There the black gibbet glooms beside the way. The dome where pleasure holds her midnight reign, Here, richly deck'd, admits the gorgeous train;
Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,
Do thine, sweet AUBURN, thine, the loveliest train,
To distant climes, a dreary scene, Where half the convex world intrudes between, Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, Where wild Altamat murmurs to their woe.
* [" These poor shivering females have once seen happier days, and been Aattered into beauty. They have been prostituted to the gay luxurious villain, and are now turned out to meet the severity of winter. Perhaps, now lying at the doors of their betrayers, they sue to wretches whose hearts are insensible, or debauchees who may curse, but will not relieve them.”—Citizen of the World, No. cxviii. See vol. ii. p. 464 ]
t(A river of Georgia, North America ; introduced here probably from
Far different there from all that charm'd before,
being mentioned in conversation by General Oglethorpe, the founder of that state, with whom Goldsmith was intimate ]
* [" The poet,” says Dr. Percival, " is not on all occasions to be confined within the precise boundaries of truth. What writer of lively fancy, in describing a morning walk on the banks of Keswick, would not embellish the beauty of the scene by the melody of birds, and thus add the charms of music to all the enchantments of vision ? Yet, I believe, there is not a feathered songster to be found in those delightful vales: probably owing to the terrors inspired by the birds of prey which abound on the mountains that surround them. The same observation will perhaps justity the author of the Deserted Village,' when he attempts to magnify the terrors of an American wilderness by introducing a tiger into the tremendous group, though this animal has never yet been found in the British trans-Atlantic settlements.”— IVorks, vol. ii. p. 170, edit. 1806.
“ I believe I have taken a poetical license to transplant the jackal from Asia. In Greece I never saw nor heard these animals; but among the ruins of Ephesus I have heard them hy hundreds. They haunt ruins and follow armies."-LORD Byron, Siege of Corinth, note.]
Good Heaven! what sorrows gloom'd that parting day, That called them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the bowers, and fondly look'd their last, And took a long farewell, and wish'd in vain For seats like these beyond the western main ; And shuddering still to face the distant deep, Return'd and wept, and still return'd to weep. The good old sire, the first prepar’d to go To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, The fond companion of his helpless years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for her father's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes, And blest the cot where every pleasure rose; And kiss'd her thoughtless babes with many a tear, And clasp'd them close, in sorrow doubly dear ; Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief In all the silent manliness of grief.*
O luxury! thou curst by IIeaven's decree,
'1" In all the decent manliness of grief."--First edit.)
Till sapp'd their strength, and every part unsound, Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.
E'en now the devastation is begun, And half the business of destruction done ; E'en now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where you anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil, and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness, are there; And piety with wishes plac'd above, And steady loyalty, and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymphı, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, iny solitary pride. Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep’st me so ; Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well! Farewell, and ( ! where'er thy voice he tried, On Torno's cliffs, or lambamarca's side, Whether where cyuinoctial fervors glow, Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, Redress the rigors of th' inclement clime; Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain,