Explore "Oliver Goldsmith" by James McIntyre on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Goldsmith wrote of deserted village, / Now again reduced to tillage, / Once happiest village of the plain, / The place you look for it in vain, / There but one man he doth make rich, / "I'll fare the land to many ills a prey / Where wealth accumulates but men decay."
While hundreds struggle in the ditch, / His honest vicar of Wakefield, / Forever he will pleasure yield.