 Forbear, my son," the hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom. • • Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still ; And though my portion is but scant, I give it with good...  Poetical Works - Página 49por Oliver Goldsmith - 1806 - 72 páginasVista completa - Acerca de este libro
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...gives the bird's song its true relish."58 In The Hermit: A Ballad (1766) we find the following lines: No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn; Taught by the Power that pities me, I learn to pity them.59 It was, however, in his The Citizen of the World... | |
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