Goldsmith wrote Deserted Village,
Now again reduced to tillage;
Once happiest village of the plain,
Place now you look for it in vain;
There but one man he doth make rich,
And hundreds struggle in the ditch;

"Ill fare the land to many ills a prey
Where wealth accumelates but men decay."
His honest Vicar of Wakefield
Forever he will pleasure yield.

James McIntyre

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/irish-poets-oliver-goldsmith/