 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1791 - 206 str.
...cold, and fhrinking from the mower, With heavy heart deplores that lucklefs hour, When idly firft, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel and robes of country brown. Do thine, fweet AUBURK, thine, thelovelieft train, Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now, perhaps,... | |
 | John Moore - 1792 - 584 str.
[ Omlouváme se, ale obsah této stránky je nepřístupný. ] | |
 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1792 - 308 str.
...cold, and mrinking from the fliow'r, With heavy heart, deplores that hicklefs hour, When idly firft, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown ! Do thine, fvreet AUBURN! thine, the lovelieft train, Do thy fair tribes participate her pain? .Ev'nnow, perhaps,... | |
 | 1792 - 112 str.
...primrofe peeps beneath the thorn; Now loft to all, her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's doors she lays her head, And , pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the show'r With heavy heart deplores the lucklefs hour, When idly firft, ambitious of the town, She left... | |
 | James Roach - 1792 - 284 str.
...from the fliowV, With heavy heart deplores that lucklefs hour, B 2 When * Stc the yi When idly firfl, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel and robes of country brown*. Do thine, fweet Auburn, thine, the loveliefl Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now, perhaps, by... | |
 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1794 - 124 str.
...cold, and flirinking from the fliow'r, With heavy heart deplores that lucklefs hour, When idly firft, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel and robes of country brown. Do thine, fweet Auburn — thine, the lovelieft train, Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Even now, perhaps,... | |
 | 1800 - 322 str.
...adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn : Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the show'r, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left... | |
 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1800 - 192 str.
...adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn; Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door she lays her head, And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the show'r, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left... | |
 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1802 - 130 str.
...cold and fhrinking from the fhow'r, With heavy heart deplores that lucklefs hour, When idly firft, ambitious of the town, She left her wheel, and robes of country brown. Do thine, fweet AUBURN, thine, the lovelieft train, Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? Ev'n now, perhaps,... | |
 | Oliver Goldsmith - 1803 - 192 str.
...adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn ; Now lost to all ; her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door, she lays her head, And pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the show'r With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, When idly first, ambitious of the town, She left... | |
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Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn ; Now lost to all, her friends, her virtue fled, Near her betrayer's door she lays her head... 
