Oliver Goldsmith

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill,
For even though vanquished he could argue still.

In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill,
For even though vanquished he could argue still.

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.

Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he:
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Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he:
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd.