Oliver Goldsmith

It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and
convenience of our lives.

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and
convenience of our lives.

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I see the lords of humankind pass by.

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I see the lords of humankind pass by.

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.

At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by read more

At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed;
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze;
While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard,
Displays her cleanly platter on the board.