| Catharine Maria Sedgwick - 1839 - 188 pàgines
...XIII. FAMILY LETTERS. 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. Goldsmith. To the younger members of the Greenbrook family, the announcement of Wallace's... | |
| Oliver Goldsmith - 1839 - 242 pàgines
...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... | |
| Oliver Goldsmith - 1839 - 360 pàgines
...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 firstborn... | |
| Ralph Knight - 1959 - 246 pàgines
...perhaps sad HALLOWEEN1 Yes/ let the rich deride, the proud disdain, The simple pleasures of the lowly train: To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art. The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake... | |
| Joseph McMinn - 1992 - 388 pàgines
...on the simple and natural, far from departing from the classical perspective is a reassertion of it: To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art; Spontaneous joys, where Nature has its play, (1. 253-5) Virgil's rural husbandmen feel... | |
| G. S. Rousseau - 1995 - 420 pàgines
...following reflections: 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 ... The sentiment here is better than the expression. The Poet is probably right in his... | |
| Diane Ravitch, Michael Ravitch - 2006 - 512 pàgines
...go round; Nor the coy maid, half willing to be pressed, Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest. 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... | |
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