Oliver Goldsmith - The Vicar of Wakefield (1766)

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A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad
When he put on his clothes.

Oliver Goldsmith

The sigh that rends thy constant heart
Shall break thy Edwin's too.

Oliver Goldsmith

To what happy accident is it that we owe so unexpected a visit?

Oliver Goldsmith

To what fortuitous occurrence do we not owe every pleasure and convenience of our lives.

Oliver Goldsmith

By the living jingo, she was all of a muck of sweat.

Oliver Goldsmith

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is — to die.

Oliver Goldsmith

The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad, and bit the man.

Oliver Goldsmith