Читать книгу The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith - Оливер Голдсмит - Страница 20

page 14

Here passes current; paid from hand to hand,

It shifts in splendid traffic round the land:

From courts, to camps, to cottages it strays,

And all are taught an avarice of praise;

They please, are pleas'd, they give to get esteem, 265

Till, seeming bless'd, they grow to what they seem.

But while this softer art their bliss supplies,

It gives their follies also room to rise;

For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly sought,

Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; 270

And the weak soul, within itself unblest,

Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.

Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art,

Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart;

Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, 275

And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace;

Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,

To boast one splendid banquet once a year;

The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,

Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. 280

To men of other minds my fancy flies,

Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies.

Methinks her patient sons before me stand,

Where the broad ocean leans against the land,

And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, 285

Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride.

Onward, methinks, and diligently slow,

The firm-connected bulwark seems to grow;

Spreads its long arms amidst the wat'ry roar,

Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore; 290