Читать книгу The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith - Оливер Голдсмит - Страница 16

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Commerce on other shores display'd her sail; 140

While nought remain'd of all that riches gave,

But towns unmann'd, and lords without a slave;

And late the nation found, with fruitless skill,

Its former strength was but plethoric ill.

Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied 145

By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride;

From these the feeble heart and long-fall'n mind

An easy compensation seem to find.

Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp array'd,

The paste-board triumph and the cavalcade; 150

Processions form'd for piety and love,

A mistress or a saint in every grove.

By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd,

The sports of children satisfy the child;

Each nobler aim, repress'd by long control, 155

Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul;

While low delights, succeeding fast behind,

In happier meanness occupy the mind:

As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway,

Defac'd by time and tottering in decay, 160

There in the ruin, heedless of the dead,

The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed,

And, wond'ring man could want the larger pile,

Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.

My soul, turn from them; turn we to survey 165

Where rougher climes a nobler race display,

Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansions tread,

And force a churlish soil for scanty bread;

No product here the barren hills afford,

But man and steel, the soldier and his sword; 170