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THE'

POETICAL WORKS

OF

OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

WITH

THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.

Cooke's Edition.

Oh, Goldsmith! how fhall forrow now effay
To murmur out her flow incondite lay?
In what fad accents mourn the lucklefs hour
That yielded thee to unrelenting power?
Thee, the proud boaft of all the tuneful train
That fweep the lyre, or fwell the polish'd ftrain?
Much honour'd Bard! if my untutor❜d verfe
Could pay a tribute worthy of thy hearfe,
With fearlefs hands I'd build the fane of praife
And boldly frew the never-fading bays.

But fay, what boots it o'er thy hallow'd duft
To heap the graven pile, or laurell'd buft;
Since by thy hands already rais'd on high,
We fee a fabric tow'ring to the sky;

Where, hand and hand with time, the facred lore
Shall travel on till Nature is no more?

Monody on the Death of Dr. Goldsmith.

EMBELLISHED WITH SUPERB ENGRAVINGS.

London:

Printed for C. COOKE, No. 17, Paternofter-Row;
And fold by all the Bookfellers in
Great Britain and

Ireland.

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Adieu, fweet bard! to each fine feeling true,
Thy virtues many, and thy foibles' few;

Thofe form'd to charm, even vicious minds---and there
With harmlefs mirth the focial foul to please.
Another's woe thy heart could always melt;

None gave more free--for none more deeply felt.
Sweet bard, adieu thy own harmonious lays
Have fculptur'd out thy monument of praife:
Yes, thefe furvive to time's remoteft day;
While drop the buft, and boaftful tombs decay.
Reader, if number'd in the mufe's train,
Go, tune the lyre, and imitate his ftrain:
But, if no poet thou, reverfe the plan;
Depart in peace, and imitate the man."

Woty's Verfes on the Death of Goldfmith.

London:

PRINTED AND EMBELLISHED

Under the Direction of

C. COOKE.

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