The Deserted Village

Oliver Goldsmith (c. 1730–1774) · 1764–1774

iambic pentameter · heroic couplets · 430 lines · from Poems

SWEET AUBURN! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheer’d the labouring swain,Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,And parting summer’s lingering blooms delay’d:Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,How often have I loiter’d o’er thy green,Where humble happiness endear’d each scene;How often have I paus’d on every charm,The shelter’d cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topp’d the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whisp’ring lovers made;How often have I bless’d the coming day,When toil remitting lent its turn to play,And all the village train, from labour free,Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;While many a pastime circled in the shade,The young contending as the old survey’d;And many a gambol frolick’d o’er the ground,And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;And still as each repeated pleasure tir’d,Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir’d;The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter’d round the place;The bashful virgin’s side-long looks of love,The matron’s glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e’en toil to please;These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms—But all these charms are fled.

Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;Amidst thy bowers the tyrant’s hand is seen,And desolation saddens all thy green:One only master grasps the whole domain,And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain:No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,But chok’d with sedges, works its weedy way.Along thy glades, a solitary guest,The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,And the long grass o’ertops the mould’ring wall;And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler’s hand,Far, far away, thy children leave the land.

Ill fares the land, to hast’ning ills a prey,Where wealth accumulates, and men decay:Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;A breath can make them, as a breath has made;But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride,When once destroy’d, can never be supplied.

A time there was, ere England’s griefs began,When every rood of ground maintain’d its man;For him light labour spread her wholesome store,Just gave what life requir’d, but gave no more:His best companions, innocence and health;And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.

But times are alter’d; trade’s unfeeling trainUsurp the land and dispossess the swain;Along the lawn, where scatter’d hamlets rose,Unwieldy wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose;And every want to opulence allied,And every pang that folly pays to pride.Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,Those calm desires that ask’d but little room,Those healthful sports that grac’d the peaceful scene,Liv’d in each look, and brighten’d all the green;These, far departing, seek a kinder shore,And rural mirth and manners are no more.

Sweet AUBURN! parent of the blissful hour,Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant’s power.Here as I take my solitary rounds,Amidst thy tangling walks, and ruin’d grounds,And, many a year elaps’d, return to viewWhere once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew,Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.

In all my wand’rings round this world of care,In all my griefs—and GOD has given my share—I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;To husband out life’s taper at the close,And keep the flame from wasting by repose.I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,Amidst the swains to show my book-learn’d skill,Around my fire an evening group to draw,And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,I still had hopes, my long vexations pass’d,Here to return—and die at home at last.

O blest retirement, friend to life’s decline,Retreats from care, that never must be mine,How happy he who crowns in shades like these,A youth of labour with an age of ease;Who quits a world where strong temptations tryAnd, since ’tis hard to combat, learns to fly!For him no wretches, born to work and weep,Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep;No surly porter stands in guilty stateTo spurn imploring famine from the gate;But on he moves to meet his latter end,Angels around befriending Virtue’s friend;Bends to the grave with unperceiv’d decay,While Resignation gently slopes the way;And, all his prospects bright’ning to the last,His Heaven commences ere the world be pass’d!

Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening’s closeUp yonder hill the village murmur rose;There, as I pass’d with careless steps and slow,The mingling notes came soften’d from below;The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung,The sober herd that low’d to meet their young;The noisy geese that gabbled o’er the pool,The playful children just let loose from school;The watchdog’s voice that bay’d the whisp’ring wind,And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind;These all in sweet confusion sought the shade,And fill’d each pause the nightingale had made.But now the sounds of population fail,No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale,No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread,For all the bloomy flush of life is fled.All but yon widow’d, solitary thingThat feebly bends beside the plashy spring;She, wretched matron, forc’d in age, for bread,To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread,To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn,To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn;She only left of all the harmless train,The sad historian of the pensive plain.

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil’d,And still where many a garden flower grows wild;There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,The village preacher’s modest mansion rose.A man he was to all the country dear,And passing rich with forty pounds a year;Remote from towns he ran his godly race,Nor e’er had chang’d, nor wished to change his place;Unpractis’d he to fawn, or seek for power,By doctrines fashion’d to the varying hour;Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,More skill’d to raise the wretched than to rise.His house was known to all the vagrant train,He chid their wand’rings, but reliev’d their pain;The long-remember’d beggar was his guest,Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;The ruin’d spendthrift, now no longer proud,Claim’d kindred there, and had his claims allow’d;The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,Sat by his fire, and talk’d the night away;Wept o’er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,Shoulder’d his crutch, and show’d how fields were won.Pleas’d with his guests, the good man learn’d to glow,And quite forgot their vices in their woe;Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,And e’en his failings lean’d to Virtue’s side;But in his duty prompt at every call,He watch’d and wept, he pray’d and felt, for all.And, as a bird each fond endearment triesTo tempt its new-fledg’d offspring to the skies,He tried each art, reprov’d each dull delay,Allur’d to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay’d,The reverend champion stood. At his control,Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,And his last falt’ring accents whisper’d praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,His looks adorn’d the venerable place;Truth from his lips prevail’d with double sway,And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray.The service pass’d, around the pious man,With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran;Even children follow’d with endearing wile,And pluck’d his gown, to share the good man’s smile.His ready smile a parent’s warmth express’d,Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares distress’d;To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way,With blossom’d furze unprofitably gay,There, in his noisy mansion, skill’d to rule,The village master taught his little school;A man severe he was, and stern to view;I knew him well, and every truant knew;Well had the boding tremblers learn’d to traceThe day’s disasters in his morning face;Full well they laugh’d, 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;Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,The love he bore to learning was in fault;The village all declar’d how much he knew;’Twas certain he could write, and cypher too;Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,And e’en the story ran that he could gauge.In arguing too, the parson own’d his skill,For e’en though vanquish’d, he could argue still;While words of learned length and thund’ring soundAmazed the gazing rustics rang’d around,And still they gaz’d, and still the wonder grew,That one small head could carry all he knew.

But past is all his fame. The very spotWhere many a time he triumph’d, is forgot.Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high,Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye,Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspir’d,Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retir’d,Where village statesmen talk’d with looks profound,And news much older than their ale went round.Imagination fondly stoops to traceThe parlour splendours of that festive place;The white-wash’d wall, the nicely sanded floor,The varnish’d clock that click’d behind the door;The chest contriv’d a double debt to pay,A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day;The pictures plac’d for ornament and use,The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose;The hearth, except when winter chill’d the day,With aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay;While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show,Rang’d o’er the chimney, glisten’d in a row.

Vain, transitory splendours! Could not allReprieve the tottering mansion from its fall!Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impartAn hour’s importance to the poor man’s heart;Thither no more the peasant shall repairTo sweet oblivion of his daily care;No more the farmer’s news, the barber’s tale,No more the wood-man’s ballad shall prevail;No more the smith his dusky brown shall clear,Relax his pond’rous strength, and lean to hear;The host himself no longer shall be foundCareful to see the mantling bliss go round;Nor the coy maid, half willing to be press’d,Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,These simple blessings of the lowly train;To me more dear, congenial to my heart,One native charm, than all the gloss of art;Spontaneous joys, where Nature has its play,The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway;Lightly they frolic o’er the vacant mind,Unenvied, unmolested, unconfin’d:But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,With all the freaks of wanton wealth array’d,In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,The toiling pleasure sickens into pain;And, e’en while fashion’s brightest arts decoy,The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy.

Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who surveyThe rich man’s joys increase, the poor’s decay,’Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits standBetween a splendid and a happy land.Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore,And shouting Folly hails them from her shore;Hoards, e’en beyond the miser’s wish abound,And rich men flock from all the world around.Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a nameThat leaves our useful products still the same.Nor so the loss. The man of wealth and prideTakes up a space that many poor supplied;Space for his lake, his park’s extended bounds,Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds;The robe that wraps his limbs in silken slothHas robb’d the neighbouring fields of half their growth,His seat, where solitary sports are seen,Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;Around the world each needful product flies,For all the luxuries the world supplies:While thus the land adorn’d for pleasure, allIn barren splendour feebly waits the fall.

As some fair female unadorn’d and plain,Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,Slights every borrow’d charm that dress supplies,Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes:But when those charms are pass’d, for charms are frail,When time advances, and when lovers fail,She then shines forth, solicitous to bless,In all the glaring impotence of dress.Thus fares the land, by luxury betray’d,In nature’s simplest charms at first array’d;But verging to decline, its splendours rise,Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;While scourg’d by famine from the smiling land,The mournful peasant leads his humble band;And while he sinks, without one arm to save,The country blooms—a garden, and a grave.

Where then, ah! where, shall poverty reside,To ’scape the pressure of continuous pride?If to some common’s fenceless limits stray’d,He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade,Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide,And e’en the bare-worn common is denied.

If to the city sped—What waits him there?To see profusion that he must not share;To see ten thousand baneful arts combin’dTo pamper luxury, and thin mankind;To see those joys the sons of pleasure knowExtorted from his fellow creature’s woe.Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade,There the pale artist plies the sickly trade;Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps display,There the black gibbet glooms beside the way.The dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reignHere, richly deck’d, admits the gorgeous train;Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare.Sure scenes like these no troubles e’er annoy!Sure these denote one universal joy!Are these thy serious thoughts?—Ah, turn thine eyesWhere the poor houseless shiv’ring female lies.She once, perhaps, in village plenty bless’d,Has wept at tales of innocence distress’d;Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn;Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled,Near her betrayer’s door she lays her head,And, pinch’d with cold, and shrinking from the shower,With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,When idly first, ambitious of the town,She left her wheel and robes of country brown.

Do thine, sweet AUBURN, thine, the loveliest train,Do thy fair tribes participate her pain?E’en now, perhaps by cold and hunger led,At proud men’s doors they ask a little bread!

Ah, no. To distant climes, a dreary scene,Where half the convex world intrudes between,Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.Far different there from all that charm’d before,The various terrors of that horrid shore;Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray,And fiercely shed intolerable day;Those matted woods where birds forget to sing,But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling;Those pois’nous fields with rank luxuriance crown’d,Where the dark scorpion gathers death around;Where at each step the stranger fears to wakeThe rattling terrors of the vengeful snake;Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey,And savage men more murd’rous still than they;While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies,Mingling the ravag’d landscape with the skies.Far different these from every former scene,The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green,The breezy covert of the warbling grove,That only shelter’d thefts of harmless love.

Good heaven! what sorrows gloom’d that parting day,That call’d them from their native walks away;When the poor exiles, every pleasure pass’d,Hung round their bowers, and fondly look’d their last,And took a long farewell, and wish’d in vainFor seats like these beyond the western main;And shudd’ring still to face the distant deep,Return’d and wept, and still return’d to weep.The good old sire, the first prepar’d to goTo new-found worlds, and wept for others’ woe;But for himself, in conscious virtue brave,He only wish’d for worlds beyond the grave.His lovely daughter, lovlier in her tears,The fond companion of his helpless years,Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,And left a lover’s for a father’s arms.With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,And bless’d the cot where every pleasure roseAnd kiss’d her thoughtless babes with many a tear,And clasp’d them close, in sorrow doubly dear;Whilst her fond husband strove to lend reliefIn all the silent manliness of grief.

O Luxury! thou curs’d by Heaven’s decree,How ill exchang’d are things like these for thee!How do thy potions, with insidious joyDiffuse their pleasures only to destroy!Kingdoms, by thee, to sickly greatness grown,Boast of a florid vigour not their own;At every draught more large and large they grow,A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe;Till sapp’d their strength, and every part unsound,Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.

E’en now the devastation is begun,And half the business of destruction done;E’en now, methinks, as pond’ring here I stand,I see the rural virtues leave the land:Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail,That idly waiting flaps with ev’ry gale,Downward they move, a melancholy band,Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand.Contented toil, and hospitable care,And kind connubial tenderness, are there;And piety, with wishes plac’d above,And steady loyalty, and faithful love.And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,Still first to fly where sensual joys invade;Unfit in these degenerate times of shame,To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame;Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried,My shame in crowds, my solitary pride;Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe,That found’st me poor at first, and keep’st me so;Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel,Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well!Farewell, and Oh! where’er thy voice be tried,On Torno’s cliffs, or Pambamarca’s side,Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,Or winter wraps the polar world in snow,Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,Redress the rigours of th’ inclement clime;Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strainTeach erring man to spurn the rage of gain;Teach him, that states of native strength possess’d,Though very poor, may still be very bless’d;That trade’s proud empire hastes to swift decay,As ocean sweeps the labour’d mole away;While self-dependent power can time defy,As rocks resist the billows and the sky.

Words in this poem 94

auburn a.: Flaxen-colored. Florio. [OE. auburne blonde, OF. alborne, auborne, fr. LL. alburnus whitish, fr. L. albus white. Cf. Alburn.]
labouring a.: That labors; performing labor; esp., performing coarse, heavy work, not requiring skill also, set apart for labor; as, laboring days.
endear v. t.: To make dear or beloved.
neighbouring a.: Living or being near; adjacent; as, the neighboring nations or countries.
pastime n.: That which amuses, and serves to make time pass agreeably; sport; amusement; diversion. [Pass + time: cf. F. passetemps.]
circled a.: Having the form of a circle; round.
gambol n.: A skipping or leaping about in frolic; a hop; a sportive prank. [OE. gambolde, gambaulde, F. gambade, gambol, fr. It. gambata kick, fr. L. gamba leg, akin to F. jambe, OF. also, gambe, fr. L. gamba, hoof or perh. joint: cf. G]
went n.: Course; way; path; journey; direction.
mistrustless a.: Having no mistrust or suspicion.
bashful a.: Abashed; daunted; dismayed. [See Bash.]
amidst prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
desolation n.: The act of desolating or laying waste; destruction of inhabitants; depopulation. [F. désolation, L. desolatio.]
weedy a.: Of or pertaining to weeds; consisting of weeds.
hast: , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
wealth n.: Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
rood n.: A representation in sculpture or in painting of the cross with Christ hanging on it. [AS. rr, D. roede rod, G. ruthe, rute, OHG. ruota. CF. Rod a measure.]
cumbrous a.: Rendering action or motion difficult or toilsome; serving to obstruct or hinder; burdensome; clogging.
opulence n.: Wealth; riches; affluence. Swift [L. opulentia: cf. F. opulence. See Opulent.]
bade: A form of the pat tense of Bid.
brighten v. t.: To make bright or brighter; to make to shine; to increase the luster of; to give a brighter hue to.
blissful a.: Full of, characterized by, or causing, joy and felicity; happy in the highest degree.
forlorn a.: Deserted abandoned; lost. [OE., p.p. of forlesen to lose utterly, AS. forleósan (p.p. forloren); pref. for- + leósan (in comp.) to lose; cf. D. verliezen to lose, G. verlieren, Sw. förlor]
explore v. t.: To seek for or after; to strive to attain by search; to look wisely and carefully for. [L. explorare to explore; ex out+plorare to cry out aloud,prob. orig., to cause to flow; perh. akin to E. flow: cf. F. explorer.]
surly a.: Arrogant; haughty. Cotgrave. [Probably from sir, and originally meaning, sirlike, i.e., proud. See Sir, and Like, a.]
spurn v. t.: To drive back or away, as with the foot; to kick. [OE. spurnen to kick against, to stumble over, AS. spurnan to kick, offend; akin to spura spur, OS. & OHG. spurnan to kick, Icel. spyrna, L. spernere to despise,]
imploring a.: That implores; beseeching; entreating.
famine n.: General scarcity of food; dearth; a want of provisions; destitution. [F. famine, fr. L. fames hunger; cf. Gr. hani loss, lack, ha to leave.]
resignation n.: The act of resigning or giving up, as a claim, possession, office, or the like; surrender; as, the resignation of a crown or comission. [F. résignation. See Resign.]
yonder adv.: At a distance, but within view. [OE. yonder, ýonder; cf. OD. ginder, Goth. jaindr there. Yond, adv.]
responsive a.: That responds; ready or inclined to respond. [Cf. F. resposif.]
spoke n.: The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
fluctuate v. i.: To move as a wave; to roll hither and thither; to wave; to float backward and forward, as on waves; as, a fluctuating field of air. [L. fluctuatus, p.p. of fluctuare, to wave, fr. fluctus wave, fr. fluere, fluctum, to flow. See Fluent, and cf. Flotilla.]
bloomy a.: Full of bloom; flowery; flourishing with the vigor of youth; as, a bloomy spray.
plashy a.: Watery; abounding with puddles; splashy. [From 1st Plash.]
mantling n.: The representation of a mantle, or the drapery behind and around a coat of arms: -- called also lambrequin.
wintry a.: Suitable to winter; resembling winter, or what belongs to winter; brumal; hyemal; cold; stormy; wintery. [AS. wintrig.]
nightly a.: Of or pertaining to the night, or to every night; happening or done by night, or every night; as, nightly shades; he kept nightly vigils.
morn n.: The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
copse n.: A wood of small growth; a thicket of brushwood. See Coppice. [Contr. from coppice.]
mansion n.: A dwelling place, -- whether a part or whole of a house or other shelter. [OF. mansion, F. maison, fr. L. mansio a staying, remaining, a dwelling, habitation, fr. manere, mansum, to stay, dwell; akin to Gr. Manse, Manor, Menagerie, Men]
crutch n.: A staff with a crosspiece at the head, to be placed under the arm or shoulder, to support the lame or infirm in walking. [OE. cruche, AS. crycc, cricc; akin to D. kruk, G. kr, Dan. krykke, Sw. krycka, and to E. crook. See Crook, and cf. Cricket a low stool.]
scan v. t.: To mount by steps; to go through with step by step. [L. scandere, scansum, to climb, to scan, akin to Skr. skand to spring, leap: cf. F. scander. Cf. Ascend, Descend, Scale a ladder.]
relieve v. t.: To lift up; to raise again, as one who has fallen; to cause to rise. Piers Plowman. [OE. releven, F. relever to raise again, discharge, relieve, fr. L. relevare to lift up, raise, make light, relieve; pref. re- re- + levare to raise, fr. levis l]
reverend a.: Worthy of reverence; entitled to respect mingled with fear and affection; venerable. [F. révérend, L. reverendus, fr. revereri. See Revere.]
unaffected a.: Not affected or moved; destitute of affection or emotion; uninfluenced.
endearing a.: Making dear or beloved; causing love.
wile n.: A trick or stratagem practiced for insnaring or deception; a sly, insidious; artifice; a beguilement; an allurement. [OE. wile, AS. wil; cf. Icel. v, væl. Cf. Guile.]
vale n.: A tract of low ground, or of land between hills; a valley. [OE. val, F. val, L. vallis; perhaps akin to Gr. Avalanche, Vail to lower, Valley.]
midway n.: The middle of the way or distance; a middle way or course.
sunshine n.: The light of the sun, or the place where it shines; the direct rays of the sun, the place where they fall, or the warmth and light which they give.
straggling a.: from Straggle, v.
boding a.: Foreshowing; presaging; ominous.
glee n.: Music; minstrelsy; entertainment.
dismal a.: Fatal; ill-omened; unlucky. [Formerly a noun; e. g., "I trow it was in the dismalle." Chaucer. Of uncertain origin; but perh. (as suggested by Skeat) from OF. disme, F. dîme, tithe, the phr]
aught n.: Property; possession. [AS. , fr. agan to own, p. p. ahte.]
fondly adv.: Foolishly. Verstegan (1673).
sanded a.: Covered or sprinkled with sand; sandy; barren. Thomson.
chimney n.: A fireplace or hearth. Sir W. Raleigh.
reprieve v. t.: To delay the punishment of; to suspend the execution of sentence on; to give a respite to; to respite; as, to reprieve a criminal for thirty days. [OE. repreven to reject, disallow, OF. reprover to blame, reproach, condemn (pres. il reprueve), F. réprouver to disapprove, fr. L. reprobare to reject, condemn;]
shall v. i.: To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
oblivion n.: The act of forgetting, or the state of being forgotten; cessation of remembrance; forgetfulness. [L. oblivio, akin to oblivisci to forget: cf. OF. oblivion.]
deride v. t.: To laugh at with contempt; to laugh to scorn; to turn to ridicule or make sport of; to mock; to scoff at. [L. deridere, derisum; de- + rid to laugh. See Ridicule.]
distrusting a.: That distrusts; suspicious; lacking confidence in.
indignant a.: Affected with indignation; wrathful; passionate; irate; feeling wrath, as when a person is exasperated by unworthy or unjust treatment, by a mean action, or by a degrading accusation. [L. indignans, -antis, p. pr. of indignari to be indignant, disdain. See Indign.]
needful a.: Full of need; in need or want; needy; distressing.
splendour n.: Great brightness; brilliant luster; brilliancy; as, the splendor ot the sun. B. Jonson. [L. fr. splendere to shine: cf. F. splendeur.]
glaring a.: Clear; notorious; open and bold; barefaced; as, a glaring crime.
impotence n.: The quality or condition of being impotent; want of strength or power, animal, intellectual, or moral; weakness; feebleness; inability; imbecility. [L. impotenia inability, poverty, want of moderation. See Impotent.]
fenceless a.: Without a fence; uninclosed; open; unguarded; defenseless.
baneful a.: Having poisonous qualities; deadly; destructive; injurious; noxious; pernicious.
courtier n.: One who is in attendance at the court of a prince; one who has an appointment at court. [From Court.]
brocade n.: Silk stuff, woven with gold and silver threads, or ornamented with raised flowers, foliage, etc.; -- also applied to other stuffs thus wrought and enriched. [Sp. brocado (cf. It. broccato, F. brocart), fr. LL. brocare *prick, to figure (textile fabrics), to emboss (linen), to stitch. See Broach.]
artist n.: One who practices some mechanic art or craft; an artisan. [F. artiste, LL. artista, fr. L. ars. See Art, n., and cf. Artiste.]
gibbet n.: A kind of gallows; an upright post with an arm projecting from the top, on which, formerly, malefactors were hanged in chains, and their bodies allowed to remain asa warning. [OE. gibet, F. gibet, in OF. also club, fr. LL. gibetum;; cf. OF. gibe sort of sickle or hook, It. giubbetto gibbet, and giubbetta, dim. of giubba mane, also, an]
gorgeous a.: Imposing through splendid or various colors; showy; fine; magnificent. [OF. gorgias beautiful, glorious, vain, luxurious; cf. OF. gorgias ruff, neck handkerchief, and F. gorge throat, and se pengorger to assume airs. Cf. Gorge, n.]
glare v. i.: To shine with a bright, dazzling light. [OE. glaren, gloren; cf. AS. glær amber, LG. glaren to glow or burn like coals, D. gloren to glimmer; prob. akin to E. glass.]
houseless a.: Destitute of the shelter of a house; shelterless; homeless; as, a houseless wanderer.
luckless a.: Being without luck; unpropitious; unfortunate; unlucky; meeting with ill success or bad fortune; as, a luckless gamester; a luckless maid.
dreary a.: Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
horrid a.: Rough; rugged; bristling. [L. horridus. See Horror, and cf. Ordure.]
luxuriance n.: The state or quality of being luxuriant; rank, vigorous growth; excessive abundance produced by rank growth. [Cf. F. luxuriance.]
vengeful a.: Vindictive; retributive; revengeful.
hapless a.: Without hap or luck; luckless; unfortunate; unlucky; unhappy; as, hapless youth; hapless maid.
cooling a.: Adapted to cool and refresh; allaying heat.
breezy a.: Characterized by, or having, breezes; airy.
sire n.: A lord, master, or other person in authority. See Sir. [F. sire, originally, an older person. See Sir.]
neglectful a.: Full of neglect; heedless; careless; negligent; inattentive; indifferent.
manliness n.: The quality or state of being manly.
insidious a.: Lying in wait; watching an opportunity to insnare or entrap; deceitful; sly; treacherous; -- said of persons; as, the insidious foe. [L. insidiosus, fr. insidiae an ambush, fr. insidere to sit in; pref. in- + sedere to sit: cf. F. insidieux. See Sit.]
vigour v. t.: To invigorate. Feltham.
methinks v.: It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
inclement a.: Not clement; destitute of a mild and kind temper; void of tenderness; unmerciful; severe; harsh. [L. inclemens; pref. in- not + clemens mild: cf. F. inclément. See Clement.]
clime n.: A climate; a tract or region of the earth. See Climate. [L. clima. See Climate.]
defy v. t.: To renounce or dissolve all bonds of affiance, faith, or obligation with; to reject, refuse, or renounce. [F. défier, OF. deffier, desfier, LL. disfidare to disown faith or fidelity, to dissolve the bond of allegiance, as between the vassal and his lord; hence, to ch]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

The Deserted Village is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith, Project Gutenberg ebook #3545; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Oliver Goldsmith, The Deserted Village, in Poems (1764–1774), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #3545, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/goldsmith-poems/the-deserted-village.html, id L00420.

Form and metre

The Deserted Village is 430 lines in 26 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 11 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKJJLLMM--NNOO plain^A · swain^A · paid^B · delay'd^B · ease^C · please^C · green^D · scene^D · charm^E · farm^E · mill^F · hill^F · shade^G · made^G · day^H · play^H · free^I · tree^I · shade^J · survey'd^J · ground^K · round^K · tir'd^J · inspir'd^J · renown^L · down^L · face^M · place^M · love · reprove · these^N · please^N · shed^O · fled^O
2 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH lawn^A · withdrawn^A · seen^B · green^B · domain^C · plain^C · day^D · way^D · guest^E · nest^E · flies^F · cries^F · all^G · wall^G · hand^H · land^H
3 AABBCC prey^A · decay^A · fade^B · made^B · pride^C · supplied^C
4 AABBCC began^A · man^A · store^B · more^B · health^C · wealth^C
5 AABBCCDDEEFF train^A · swain^A · rose^B · repose^B · allied^C · pride^C · bloom^D · room^D · scene^E · green^E · shore^F · more^F
6 AABBCCDD hour^A · power^A · rounds^B · grounds^B · view^C · grew^C · train^D · pain^D
7 AABBCCDDEEFFGG care^A · share^A · crown^B · down^B · close^C · repose^C · still^D · skill^D · draw^E · saw^E · pursue^F · flew^F · pass'd^G · last^G
8 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH decline^A · mine^A · these^B · ease^B · try^C · fly^C · weep^D · deep^D · state^E · gate^E · end^F · friend^F · decay^G · way^G · last^H · pass'd^H
9 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIHHJJKK close^A · rose^A · slow^B · below^B · sung^C · young^C · pool^D · school^D · wind^E · mind^E · shade^F · made^F · fail^G · gale^G · tread^H · fled^H · thing^I · spring^I · bread^H · spread^H · thorn^J · morn^J · train^K · plain^K
10 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMM smil'd^A · wild^A · disclose^B · rose^B · dear^C · year^C · race^D · place^D · power^E · hour^E · prize^F · rise^F · train^G · pain^G · guest^H · breast^H · proud^I · allow'd^I · stay^J · away^J · done^K · won^K · glow^L · woe^L · scan^M · began^M
11 AABBCCDD pride^A · side^A · call^B · all^B · tries^C · skies^C · delay^D · way^D
12 AABBCC laid^A · dismay'd^A · control^B · soul^B · raise^C · praise^C
13 AABBCCDDEE--FFGG grace^A · place^A · sway^B · pray^B · man^C · ran^C · wile^D · smile^D · express'd^E · distress'd^E · given · heaven · form^F · storm^F · spread^G · head^G
14 AABBCCDDEEFF--CCGGHHFFCC way^A · gay^A · rule^B · school^B · view^C · knew^C · trace^D · face^D · glee^E · he^E · round^F · frown'd^F · aught · fault · knew^C · too^C · presage^G · gauge^G · skill^H · still^H · sound^F · around^F · grew^C · knew^C
15 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHGGII spot^A · forgot^A · high^B · eye^B · inspir'd^C · retir'd^C · profound^D · round^D · trace^E · place^E · floor^F · door^F · pay^G · day^G · use^H · goose^H · day^G · gay^G · show^I · row^I
16 AABBCCDDEEFFGG all^A · fall^A · impart^B · heart^B · repair^C · care^C · tale^D · prevail^D · clear^E · hear^E · found^F · round^F · press'd^G · rest^G
17 AABBCCDDEEAAFF disdain^A · train^A · heart^B · art^B · play^C · sway^C · mind^D · unconfin'd^D · masquerade^E · array'd^E · obtain^A · pain^A · decoy^F · joy^F
18 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKK survey^A · decay^A · stand^B · land^B · ore^C · shore^C · abound^D · around^D · name^E · same^E · pride^F · supplied^F · bounds^G · hounds^G · sloth^H · growth^H · seen^I · green^I · flies^J · supplies^J · all^K · fall^K
19 AABBCCDDEEBBFFGG plain^A · reign^A · supplies^B · eyes^B · frail^C · fail^C · bless^D · dress^D · betray'd^E · array'd^E · rise^B · surprise^B · land^F · band^F · save^G · grave^G
20 AABBAA reside^A · pride^A · stray'd^B · blade^B · divide^A · denied^A
21 AABBCCDDEEFFAAGGHHIIJJKKLLMM there^A · share^A · combin'd^B · mankind^B · know^C · woe^C · brocade^D · trade^D · display^E · way^E · reign^F · train^F · square^A · glare^A · annoy^G · joy^G · eyes^H · lies^H · bless'd^I · distress'd^I · adorn^J · thorn^J · fled^K · head^K · shower^L · hour^L · town^M · brown^M
22 AABB train^A · pain^A · led^B · bread^B
23 AABBCCDDEEFFGGDDHHAA-- scene^A · between^A · go^B · woe^B · before^C · shore^C · ray^D · day^D · sing^E · cling^E · crown'd^F · around^F · wake^G · snake^G · prey^D · they^D · flies^H · skies^H · scene^A · green^A · grove · love
24 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKK day^A · away^A · pass'd^B · last^B · vain^C · main^C · deep^D · weep^D · go^E · woe^E · brave^F · grave^F · tears^G · years^G · charms^H · arms^H · woes^I · rose^I · tear^J · dear^J · relief^K · grief^K
25 AABBCCDDEE decree^A · thee^A · joy^B · destroy^B · grown^C · own^C · grow^D · woe^D · unsound^E · round^E
26 AABBCCBBDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQ begun^A · done^A · stand^B · land^B · sail^C · gale^C · band^B · strand^B · care^D · there^D · above^E · love^E · maid^F · invade^F · shame^G · fame^G · decried^H · pride^H · woe^I · so^I · excel^J · well^J · tried^K · side^K · glow^L · snow^L · time^M · clime^M · strain^N · gain^N · possess'd^O · bless'd^O · decay^P · away^P · defy^Q · sky^Q

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
SWEET AUBURN! loveliest village of the plain,	11	·/˘···/˘···
Where health and plenty cheer’d the labouring swain,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
And parting summer’s lingering blooms delay’d:	10	·/˘/˘/˘·˘/
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,	10	·/˘/·/˘˘··
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,	10	·····/˘···
How often have I loiter’d o’er thy green,	10	·/˘·······
Where humble happiness endear’d each scene;	10	·/˘/˘˘˘/··
How often have I paus’d on every charm,	10	·/˘····/˘·
The shelter’d cot, the cultivated farm,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘·
The never-failing brook, the busy mill,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The decent church that topp’d the neighbouring hill,	10	·/˘····/˘·
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,	10	·/········
For talking age and whisp’ring lovers made;	10	·/˘····/˘·
How often have I bless’d the coming day,	10	·/˘····/˘·
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,	10	··˘/˘·····
And all the village train, from labour free,	10	···/˘··/··
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;	10	·······/˘·
While many a pastime circled in the shade,	10	·/·/·/˘···
The young contending as the old survey’d;	10	··˘/˘···˘/
And many a gambol frolick’d o’er the ground,	10	·/·/˘·····
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;	10	··········
And still as each repeated pleasure tir’d,	11	····˘/˘/˘/˘
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir’d;	11	˘/˘··/˘·˘/˘
The dancing pair that simply sought renown,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
By holding out to tire each other down;	10	·/˘··/·/˘·
The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
While secret laughter titter’d round the place;	10	·/˘/˘·····
The bashful virgin’s side-long looks of love,	10	·/˘/˘·····
The matron’s glance that would those looks reprove:	10	·/˘·····˘/
These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,	10	·····/˘···
With sweet succession, taught e’en toil to please;	10	··˘/˘·····
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,	10	···/·/˘/˘·
These were thy charms—But all these charms are fled.	10	··········
Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,	11	·/˘/˘······
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;	10	········˘/
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant’s hand is seen,	10	˘/·/·/˘···
And desolation saddens all thy green:	10	··˘/˘/˘···
One only master grasps the whole domain,	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain:	10	···/˘··/˘·
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,	10	···/˘·˘/··
But chok’d with sedges, works its weedy way.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Along thy glades, a solitary guest,	10	˘/···/˘·˘·
The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.	10	·/˘·/˘····
Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,	10	···/·/˘/˘·
And the long grass o’ertops the mould’ring wall;	10	··········
And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler’s hand,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Far, far away, thy children leave the land.	10	··˘/·/˘···
Ill fares the land, to hast’ning ills a prey,	10	··········
Where wealth accumulates, and men decay:	10	··˘/˘···˘/
Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;	10	/˘···/˘···
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;	10	··········
But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride,	10	···/˘˘·/˘·
When once destroy’d, can never be supplied.	10	··˘/·/˘·˘/
A time there was, ere England’s griefs began,	10	·····/˘·˘/
When every rood of ground maintain’d its man;	10	·/˘···˘/··
For him light labour spread her wholesome store,	10	···/···/˘·
Just gave what life requir’d, but gave no more:	10	····˘/····
His best companions, innocence and health;	10	··˘/˘/˘˘··
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.	10	···/˘/˘˘··
But times are alter’d; trade’s unfeeling train	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Usurp the land and dispossess the swain;	10	·/····˘/··
Along the lawn, where scatter’d hamlets rose,	10	˘/···/˘/˘·
Unwieldy wealth, and cumbrous pomp repose;	10	˘/˘··/˘·˘/
And every want to opulence allied,	10	·/˘··/˘˘˘/
And every pang that folly pays to pride.	10	·/˘··/˘···
Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,	10	·/˘/·/˘···
Those calm desires that ask’d but little room,	10	··˘/···/˘·
Those healthful sports that grac’d the peaceful scene,	10	·/˘····/˘·
Liv’d in each look, and brighten’d all the green;	10	·····/˘···
These, far departing, seek a kinder shore,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
And rural mirth and manners are no more.	10	·/˘··/˘···
Sweet AUBURN! parent of the blissful hour,	11	·/˘/˘··/˘/˘
Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant’s power.	11	··˘/˘/·/˘/˘
Here as I take my solitary rounds,	10	·····/˘·˘·
Amidst thy tangling walks, and ruin’d grounds,	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
And, many a year elaps’d, return to view	10	·/··˘/˘/··
Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew,	10	···/˘··/··
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,	10	˘/˘····/˘·
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.	10	··········
In all my wand’rings round this world of care,	10	··········
In all my griefs—and GOD has given my share—	10	·······/··
I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,	10	·····/˘/··
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;	10	˘/·/˘/····
To husband out life’s taper at the close,	10	·/˘··/˘···
And keep the flame from wasting by repose.	10	·····/˘·˘/
I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,	10	······˘/··
Amidst the swains to show my book-learn’d skill,	10	˘/········
Around my fire an evening group to draw,	10	···/·/˘···
And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;	10	··········
And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,	10	········˘/
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,	10	··········
I still had hopes, my long vexations pass’d,	10	··········
Here to return—and die at home at last.	10	··˘/······
O blest retirement, friend to life’s decline,	10	··˘/˘···˘/
Retreats from care, that never must be mine,	10	˘/···/˘···
How happy he who crowns in shades like these,	10	·/˘·······
A youth of labour with an age of ease;	10	···/······
Who quits a world where strong temptations try	10	······˘/˘·
And, since ’tis hard to combat, learns to fly!	10	·····/˘···
For him no wretches, born to work and weep,	10	··········
Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep;	10	˘/·····/˘·
No surly porter stands in guilty state	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
To spurn imploring famine from the gate;	10	··˘/˘/˘···
But on he moves to meet his latter end,	10	·······/˘·
Angels around befriending Virtue’s friend;	10	/˘··˘/˘/˘·
Bends to the grave with unperceiv’d decay,	10	········˘/
While Resignation gently slopes the way;	10	··˘/˘/˘···
And, all his prospects bright’ning to the last,	10	···/˘·····
His Heaven commences ere the world be pass’d!	10	·/˘/˘·····
Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening’s close	10	·······/˘·
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
There, as I pass’d with careless steps and slow,	10	·····/˘···
The mingling notes came soften’d from below;	10	·/˘··/˘···
The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung,	10	··˘/˘·····
The sober herd that low’d to meet their young;	10	·/˘·······
The noisy geese that gabbled o’er the pool,	10	·/˘···˘···
The playful children just let loose from school;	10	·/˘/˘·····
The watchdog’s voice that bay’d the whisp’ring wind,	10	·/········
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind;	10	·······/˘·
These all in sweet confusion sought the shade,	10	····˘/˘···
And fill’d each pause the nightingale had made.	10	·····/˘˘··
But now the sounds of population fail,	10	······˘/˘·
No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale,	11	·/˘/˘/˘····
No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread,	10	·/˘·······
For all the bloomy flush of life is fled.	10	···/˘·····
All but yon widow’d, solitary thing	10	···/˘/˘·˘·
That feebly bends beside the plashy spring;	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
She, wretched matron, forc’d in age, for bread,	10	·/˘/˘·····
To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread,	10	·····/˘/˘·
To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn,	10	···/˘/˘···
To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn;	10	···/˘·····
She only left of all the harmless train,	10	·/˘····/˘·
The sad historian of the pensive plain.	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Near yonder copse, where once the garden smil’d,	10	·/˘····/˘·
And still where many a garden flower grows wild;	10	···/·/˘/··
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,	10	········˘/
The village preacher’s modest mansion rose.	10	·/˘/˘/˘/˘·
A man he was to all the country dear,	10	·······/˘·
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;	10	·/˘··/˘···
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,	10	˘/·····/˘·
Nor e’er had chang’d, nor wished to change his place;	10	··········
Unpractis’d he to fawn, or seek for power,	11	·········/˘
By doctrines fashion’d to the varying hour;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘/
Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,	10	·/˘·······
More skill’d to raise the wretched than to rise.	10	·····/˘···
His house was known to all the vagrant train,	10	·······/˘·
He chid their wand’rings, but reliev’d their pain;	10	······˘/··
The long-remember’d beggar was his guest,	10	··˘/˘/˘···
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;	9	··˘/˘····
The ruin’d spendthrift, now no longer proud,	10	·/˘/···/˘·
Claim’d kindred there, and had his claims allow’d;	10	·/˘·····˘/
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Sat by his fire, and talk’d the night away;	10	···/····˘/
Wept o’er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,	10	·······/˘·
Shoulder’d his crutch, and show’d how fields were won.	10	/˘········
Pleas’d with his guests, the good man learn’d to glow,	10	··········
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;	10	··˘/·/˘···
Careless their merits, or their faults to scan,	10	/˘·/˘·····
His pity gave ere charity began.	10	·/˘··/˘˘˘/
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,	10	··˘/·/˘···
And e’en his failings lean’d to Virtue’s side;	10	···/˘··/˘·
But in his duty prompt at every call,	10	···/˘··/˘·
He watch’d and wept, he pray’d and felt, for all.	10	··········
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries	10	······˘/˘·
To tempt its new-fledg’d offspring to the skies,	10	·····/····
He tried each art, reprov’d each dull delay,	10	········˘/
Allur’d to brighter worlds, and led the way.	10	˘/·/˘·····
Beside the bed where parting life was laid,	10	˘/···/˘···
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay’d,	10	·/˘·····˘/
The reverend champion stood. At his control,	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,	10	/˘···/˘···
And his last falt’ring accents whisper’d praise.	10	·····/˘/˘·
At church, with meek and unaffected grace,	10	······˘/˘·
His looks adorn’d the venerable place;	10	··˘/·/˘˘˘·
Truth from his lips prevail’d with double sway,	10	····˘/·/˘·
And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray.	10	······˘/··
The service pass’d, around the pious man,	10	·/˘····/˘·
With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran;	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Even children follow’d with endearing wile,	10	//˘/˘·˘/˘·
And pluck’d his gown, to share the good man’s smile.	10	··········
His ready smile a parent’s warmth express’d,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares distress’d;	10	·/······˘/
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,	11	·········/˘
But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.	11	···/˘····/˘
As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form,	10	·······/˘·
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,	10	·····/····
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,	10	·····/˘···
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.	10	˘/˘/·/˘···
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way,	10	˘/·/˘·····
With blossom’d furze unprofitably gay,	10	·/˘·······
There, in his noisy mansion, skill’d to rule,	10	···/˘/˘···
The village master taught his little school;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
A man severe he was, and stern to view;	10	··˘/······
I knew him well, and every truant knew;	10	·····/˘/˘·
Well had the boding tremblers learn’d to trace	10	···/˘·····
The day’s disasters in his morning face;	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Full well they laugh’d, with counterfeited glee,	10	·····/˘·˘·
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;	10	·····/····
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,	10	···/˘/˘/˘·
Convey’d the dismal tidings when he frown’d;	10	˘/·/˘/˘···
Yet he was kind; or if severe in aught,	10	······˘/··
The love he bore to learning was in fault;	10	·····/˘···
The village all declar’d how much he knew;	10	·/˘·˘/····
’Twas certain he could write, and cypher too;	10	·/˘····/˘·
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage,	10	···/˘···/˘
And e’en the story ran that he could gauge.	10	···/˘·····
In arguing too, the parson own’d his skill,	10	·/˘··/˘···
For e’en though vanquish’d, he could argue still;	10	···/˘··/˘·
While words of learned length and thund’ring sound	10	····˘·····
Amazed the gazing rustics rang’d around,	10	˘/·/˘/˘···
And still they gaz’d, and still the wonder grew,	10	·······/˘·
That one small head could carry all he knew.	10	·····/˘···
But past is all his fame. The very spot	10	·······/˘·
Where many a time he triumph’d, is forgot.	10	·/···/˘·˘/
Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high,	10	·/˘·······
Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye,	10	·······/˘·
Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspir’d,	11	········˘/˘
Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retir’d,	10	·····/˘·˘/
Where village statesmen talk’d with looks profound,	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
And news much older than their ale went round.	10	···/˘·····
Imagination fondly stoops to trace	10	˘·˘/˘/˘···
The parlour splendours of that festive place;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The white-wash’d wall, the nicely sanded floor,	10	·····/˘/˘·
The varnish’d clock that click’d behind the door;	10	·/˘·······
The chest contriv’d a double debt to pay,	10	··˘/·/˘···
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day;	10	··········
The pictures plac’d for ornament and use,	10	·/˘··/˘˘··
The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose;	10	·····/˘···
The hearth, except when winter chill’d the day,	10	·····/˘···
With aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay;	10	·/˘··/·/˘·
While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show,	10	·/˘··/˘···
Rang’d o’er the chimney, glisten’d in a row.	10	···/˘/˘···
Vain, transitory splendours! Could not all	10	·/˘·˘/˘···
Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall!	10	˘/·/˘/˘···
Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart	10	˘/······˘/
An hour’s importance to the poor man’s heart;	10	·/˘/˘·····
Thither no more the peasant shall repair	10	/˘···/˘·˘/
To sweet oblivion of his daily care;	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
No more the farmer’s news, the barber’s tale,	10	···/˘··/˘·
No more the wood-man’s ballad shall prevail;	10	·····/˘·˘/
No more the smith his dusky brown shall clear,	10	·····/˘···
Relax his pond’rous strength, and lean to hear;	10	˘/········
The host himself no longer shall be found	10	··˘/·/˘···
Careful to see the mantling bliss go round;	10	/˘···/˘···
Nor the coy maid, half willing to be press’d,	10	·····/˘···
Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.	10	··········
Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,	10	····˘/··˘/
These simple blessings of the lowly train;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,	10	····˘/˘···
One native charm, than all the gloss of art;	10	·/˘·······
Spontaneous joys, where Nature has its play,	10	˘/˘··/˘···
The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway;	10	··˘/······
Lightly they frolic o’er the vacant mind,	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
Unenvied, unmolested, unconfin’d:	9	···˘/˘·˘/
But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,	10	·····/··˘/
With all the freaks of wanton wealth array’d,	10	·····/˘·˘/
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,	10	········˘/
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain;	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
And, e’en while fashion’s brightest arts decoy,	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy.	10	··˘/˘·····
Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey	10	·····/˘·˘/
The rich man’s joys increase, the poor’s decay,	10	····˘/··˘/
’Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand	10	·······/˘·
Between a splendid and a happy land.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore,	10	·······/˘·
And shouting Folly hails them from her shore;	10	·/˘/˘·····
Hoards, e’en beyond the miser’s wish abound,	10	·····/˘·˘/
And rich men flock from all the world around.	10	··········
Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name	10	··/·······
That leaves our useful products still the same.	10	··//˘/˘···
Nor so the loss. The man of wealth and pride	10	··········
Takes up a space that many poor supplied;	10	·····/˘·˘/
Space for his lake, his park’s extended bounds,	10	······˘/˘·
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds;	10	···/˘/˘˘··
The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth	10	·······/˘·
Has robb’d the neighbouring fields of half their growth,	10	···/˘·····
His seat, where solitary sports are seen,	10	···/˘·˘···
Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;	10	˘/˘··/˘···
Around the world each needful product flies,	10	·····/˘/˘·
For all the luxuries the world supplies:	10	···/˘˘··˘/
While thus the land adorn’d for pleasure, all	10	····˘/·/˘·
In barren splendour feebly waits the fall.	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
As some fair female unadorn’d and plain,	10	···/··˘/··
Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,	10	˘/····˘/··
Slights every borrow’d charm that dress supplies,	10	·/˘/····˘/
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes:	10	·····/˘···
But when those charms are pass’d, for charms are frail,	10	··········
When time advances, and when lovers fail,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
She then shines forth, solicitous to bless,	10	····˘/˘˘··
In all the glaring impotence of dress.	10	···/˘/˘˘··
Thus fares the land, by luxury betray’d,	10	·····/˘˘˘/
In nature’s simplest charms at first array’d;	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
But verging to decline, its splendours rise,	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;	10	·/˘··/˘˘˘/
While scourg’d by famine from the smiling land,	10	···/˘··/˘·
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
And while he sinks, without one arm to save,	10	··········
The country blooms—a garden, and a grave.	10	·/˘··/˘···
Where then, ah! where, shall poverty reside,	10	·····/˘˘˘/
To ’scape the pressure of continuous pride?	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
If to some common’s fenceless limits stray’d,	10	···/˘/˘/˘·
He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade,	10	·······/˘·
Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide,	10	·/˘·····˘/
And e’en the bare-worn common is denied.	10	·····/˘·˘/
If to the city sped—What waits him there?	10	···/˘·····
To see profusion that he must not share;	10	··˘/˘·····
To see ten thousand baneful arts combin’d	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
To pamper luxury, and thin mankind;	10	·/˘/˘˘··//
To see those joys the sons of pleasure know	10	·······/˘·
Extorted from his fellow creature’s woe.	10	˘/˘··/˘/˘·
Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade,	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
There the pale artist plies the sickly trade;	10	···/˘··/˘·
Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps display,	10	········˘/
There the black gibbet glooms beside the way.	10	···/˘·˘/··
The dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reign	10	···/˘··/··
Here, richly deck’d, admits the gorgeous train;	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,	10	·/˘˘/··/˘·
The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare.	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Sure scenes like these no troubles e’er annoy!	10	·····/˘·˘/
Sure these denote one universal joy!	10	··˘/··˘/˘·
Are these thy serious thoughts?—Ah, turn thine eyes	10	···/˘·····
Where the poor houseless shiv’ring female lies.	10	···/˘··/··
She once, perhaps, in village plenty bless’d,	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
Has wept at tales of innocence distress’d;	10	·····/˘˘˘/
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn;	10	···/······
Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled,	10	·······/˘·
Near her betrayer’s door she lays her head,	9	·········
And, pinch’d with cold, and shrinking from the shower,	11	·····/˘··/˘
With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,	11	·/˘·˘/·/˘/˘
When idly first, ambitious of the town,	10	·/˘·˘/˘···
She left her wheel and robes of country brown.	10	·······/˘·
Do thine, sweet AUBURN, thine, the loveliest train,	11	···/˘······
Do thy fair tribes participate her pain?	10	····˘/˘···
E’en now, perhaps by cold and hunger led,	10	··˘/···/˘·
At proud men’s doors they ask a little bread!	10	·······/˘·
Ah, no. To distant climes, a dreary scene,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Where half the convex world intrudes between,	10	···/··˘/··
Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,	10	·/˘··/˘···
Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.	10	·····/˘···
Far different there from all that charm’d before,	10	·/˘·······
The various terrors of that horrid shore;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray,	10	·/˘····/˘·
And fiercely shed intolerable day;	10	·/˘·˘/˘˘˘·
Those matted woods where birds forget to sing,	10	·/˘···˘/··
But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling;	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Those pois’nous fields with rank luxuriance crown’d,	11	······˘/˘˘·
Where the dark scorpion gathers death around;	10	···/˘/˘···
Where at each step the stranger fears to wake	10	·····/˘···
The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
And savage men more murd’rous still than they;	10	·/˘·······
While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies,	10	······˘/··
Mingling the ravag’d landscape with the skies.	10	/˘·/˘/····
Far different these from every former scene,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
The breezy covert of the warbling grove,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
That only shelter’d thefts of harmless love.	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Good heaven! what sorrows gloom’d that parting day,	10	·/·/˘··/˘·
That call’d them from their native walks away;	10	·····/˘·˘/
When the poor exiles, every pleasure pass’d,	10	···/·/˘/˘·
Hung round their bowers, and fondly look’d their last,	10	···/·/˘···
And took a long farewell, and wish’d in vain	10	·····/····
For seats like these beyond the western main;	10	·······/˘·
And shudd’ring still to face the distant deep,	10	·······/˘·
Return’d and wept, and still return’d to weep.	10	˘/····˘/··
The good old sire, the first prepar’d to go	10	···/··˘/··
To new-found worlds, and wept for others’ woe;	10	·······/˘·
But for himself, in conscious virtue brave,	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
He only wish’d for worlds beyond the grave.	10	·/˘·······
His lovely daughter, lovlier in her tears,	10	·/˘/˘·····
The fond companion of his helpless years,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,	10	/˘··˘/˘···
And left a lover’s for a father’s arms.	10	···/˘··/˘·
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,	10	·/˘··/˘···
And bless’d the cot where every pleasure rose	10	·····/˘/˘·
And kiss’d her thoughtless babes with many a tear,	10	···/˘··/··
And clasp’d them close, in sorrow doubly dear;	10	·····/˘/˘·
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief	10	···/˘···˘/
In all the silent manliness of grief.	10	···/˘/˘˘··
O Luxury! thou curs’d by Heaven’s decree,	10	·/˘···/˘˘/
How ill exchang’d are things like these for thee!	10	··˘/······
How do thy potions, with insidious joy	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!	10	˘/·/˘/˘·˘/
Kingdoms, by thee, to sickly greatness grown,	10	/˘···/˘/˘·
Boast of a florid vigour not their own;	10	···/˘/˘···
At every draught more large and large they grow,	10	·/˘·······
A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe;	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
Till sapp’d their strength, and every part unsound,	10	·····/˘·˘/
Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.	10	·······/˘·
E’en now the devastation is begun,	10	····˘/˘·˘/
And half the business of destruction done;	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
E’en now, methinks, as pond’ring here I stand,	10	··˘/······
I see the rural virtues leave the land:	10	···/˘/˘···
Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail,	10	···/˘/˘···
That idly waiting flaps with ev’ry gale,	10	·/˘/˘·····

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