Oliver Goldsmith

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

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

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where read more

What if in Scotland's wilds we viel'd our head,
Where tempests whistle round the sordid bed;
Where the rug's two-fold use we might display,
By night a blanket, and a plaid by day.

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.

In arguing one should meet serious pleading with humor, and humor
with serious pleading.

In arguing one should meet serious pleading with humor, and humor
with serious pleading.

That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower.

That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower.