Oliver Goldsmith

Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
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Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
Till his relish grown callous, almost to displease,
Who pepper'd the highest was surest to please.

Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.

Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance read more

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is--to die.

Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such
We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much;
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Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such
We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much;
Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.

As ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united
voice of myriads cannot lend the read more

As ten millions of circles can never make a square, so the united
voice of myriads cannot lend the smallest foundation to
falsehood.