Oliver Goldsmith

Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.

Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.

By every remove I only drag a greater length of chain.

By every remove I only drag a greater length of chain.

And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.

And the weak soul, within itself unbless'd,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.

Turn, gentle Hermit of the Dale,
And guide my lonely way
To where you taper cheers the read more

Turn, gentle Hermit of the Dale,
And guide my lonely way
To where you taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.

"Very well," cried I, "that's a good girl; I find you are
perfectly qualified for making converts, and so read more

"Very well," cried I, "that's a good girl; I find you are
perfectly qualified for making converts, and so go help your
mother to make the gooseberry bye."