Who is Oliver Goldsmith

...
Read Full Biography of Oliver Goldsmith


Oliver Goldsmith Poems

  • Threnodia Augustalis:
    SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HER LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES.

    OVERTURE A SOLEMN DIRGE. AIR TRIO.
    ...
  • Of The Death Of The Right Hon. ***
    Ye Muses, pour the pitying tear
    For Pollio snatch'd away;
    O! had he liv'd another year!
    'He had not died to-day'. ...
  • Song From 'she Stoops To Conquer'
    Let school-masters puzzle their brain,
    With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;
    Good liquor, I stoutly maintain,
    Gives 'genus' a better discerning. ...
  • The Gift
    To Iris, In Bow Street, Convent Garden

    Say, cruel IRIS, pretty rake,
    Dear mercenary beauty, ...
  • Epilogue To 'the Good Natur'd Man'
    As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure
    To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;
    Thus on the stage, our play-wrights still depend
    For Epilogues and Prologues on some friend, ...
Read All Poems


Top 10 most used topics by Oliver Goldsmith

Good 19 Long 16 Place 15 Night 13 Life 12 Face 12 View 12 Rise 10 Death 10 Soul 10


Oliver Goldsmith Quotes

Read All Quotes


Comments about Oliver Goldsmith

Mike_may_quotes: those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms (oliver goldsmith, 1730–1774)
Csshallwayhero: "our greatest glory is, not in never failing, but in rising every time we fall." ~oliver goldsmith
Kevinblakeryan: “ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, where wealth accumulates, and men decay:” —oliver goldsmith | the deserted village (1770)
Luv_wine: i love everything that is old; old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wines. -oliver goldsmith, the vicar of wakefield
Thepainterflynn: today in 1766 the vicar of wakefield by oliver goldsmith is first published
Read All Comments


Write your comment about Oliver Goldsmith


Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

Read complete poem

Popular Poets