Poem of the day-122: From The Deserted Village by Oliver Goldsmith

In all my wand'rings round this world of care,

In all my griefs--and GOD has given my share--

I still had hopes my latest hours to crown,                      

Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down;

To husband out life's taper at the close,

And keep the flame from wasting by repose.

I still had hopes, for pride attends us still,

Amidst the swains to show my book-learn'd skill,                 

Around my fire an evening group to draw,

And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;

And, as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue,

Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,

I still had hopes, my long vexations pass'd,                     

Here to return--and die at home at last.

Write-up on Oliver Goldsmith from Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oliver_Goldsmith

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