Oliver Goldsmith

Anonymous, "The Deserted Village" Dublin Evening Post (11 November 1817).

Sir — A Gentleman, not long since, having had an opportunity of visiting Auburn, formerly the residence of the GOLDSMITH family, and of viewing the remains of the scenes mentioned in GOLDSMITH'S Poem of the Deserted Village, was permitted to sit in GOLDSMITH'S Chair, which is still preserved. GOLDSMITH'S spirit of Poetry, or something similar, took possession of the honored visitor, and, under the influence of it, he wrote the following Verses — a copy of which having been procured, is sent for insertion, by a Reader of your excellent Paper.

Thrice welcome, ye scenes of content,
Which bright GOLDSMITH so often survey'd;
Here his infantile hours were spent,
And his embryo talents displayed.

But, oh! how much alter'd the place
Which gave birth to his talents so rare;
Cruel Time has scarce left us a trace
Of the scenes which were formerly here!

But something is still to be seen—
The trees which he planted are here!
The house in which dwelt the Divine—
And, while writing, I sit in his chair.

The Church appears full in my view,
Whose spire tops the neighbouring hill;
The ale-house is standing here, too;
And here is the noisy old mill.

The furze still the plains do adorn;
The school-house, I find, still remains;
And here's the remains of the thorn,
Describ'd in poetical strains.

But, ah! where is OLIVER gone,
The glory and pride of these plains;
His spirit to worlds unknown—
And England can boast his remains.

Why should England monopolize dust,
Which, justly is Auburn's right;
For GOLDSMITH is Auburn's boast,
And GOLDSMITH is Erin's delight.