Oliver Goldsmith

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
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How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves in every place consigned,
Our own felicity we make or find.
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.

But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.

But in his duty prompt at every call,
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt for all.

There is nothing so absurd or ridiculous that has not at some time been said by some philosopher.

There is nothing so absurd or ridiculous that has not at some time been said by some philosopher.

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