The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: To which is Prefixed, a Life of the Author ... |
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Страница 27
Thus Bethel spoke , who always speaks his thought , And always thinks the very
thing he ought : His equal mind I copy what I can , And as I love , would imitate
the man . In South - sea days not happier , when surmised , The lord of
thousands ...
Thus Bethel spoke , who always speaks his thought , And always thinks the very
thing he ought : His equal mind I copy what I can , And as I love , would imitate
the man . In South - sea days not happier , when surmised , The lord of
thousands ...
Страница 46
Some doubt , if equal pains , or equal fire , The humbler muse of comedy require .
But in known images of life , I guess The labour greater , as the indulgence less .
Observe how seldom e'en the best succeed : Tell me if Congreve's fools are ...
Some doubt , if equal pains , or equal fire , The humbler muse of comedy require .
But in known images of life , I guess The labour greater , as the indulgence less .
Observe how seldom e'en the best succeed : Tell me if Congreve's fools are ...
Страница 53
The Temple late two brother sergeants saw , Who deem'd each other oracles of
law ; With equal talents , these congenial souls , One lull'd the Exchequer , and
one stunn'd the Rolls Each had a gravity would make you split , And shook his ...
The Temple late two brother sergeants saw , Who deem'd each other oracles of
law ; With equal talents , these congenial souls , One lull'd the Exchequer , and
one stunn'd the Rolls Each had a gravity would make you split , And shook his ...
Страница 55
There is a time when poets will grow dull : I'll e'en leave verses to the boys at
school ; To rules of poetry no more confined , I'll learn to smooth and harmonize
my mind , Teach every thought within its bounds to roll , And keep the equal ...
There is a time when poets will grow dull : I'll e'en leave verses to the boys at
school ; To rules of poetry no more confined , I'll learn to smooth and harmonize
my mind , Teach every thought within its bounds to roll , And keep the equal ...
Страница 96
Turn , turn to willing hearts your wanton fires : To number five direct your doves ,
There spread round Murray all your blooming loves Noble and young , who
strikes the heart With every sprightly , every decent part ; Equal the injured to
defend ...
Turn , turn to willing hearts your wanton fires : To number five direct your doves ,
There spread round Murray all your blooming loves Noble and young , who
strikes the heart With every sprightly , every decent part ; Equal the injured to
defend ...
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Страница 54 - True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
Страница 6 - I said; Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Страница 106 - twixt reading and Bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary Tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon...
Страница 12 - Till grown more frugal in his riper days, He paid some bards with port, and some with praise ; To some a dry rehearsal was assign'd, And others (harder still) he paid in kind.
Страница 11 - Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause ; While wits and templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he ? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals ? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers...
Страница 6 - And curses wit, and poetry, and Pope. Friend to my life! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove ? Or which must end me, a fool's wrath or love ? A dire dilemma! either way I'm sped, If foes, they write, — if friends, they read me dead.
Страница 280 - Some gentle James, to bless the land again ; To stick the doctor's chair into the throne, Give law to words, or war with words alone, Senates and courts with Greek and Latin rule, And turn the council to a grammar school ! For sure, if Dulness sees a grateful day, 'Tis in the shade of arbitrary sway.
Страница 14 - What ? that thing of silk, Sporus, that mere white curd of Ass's milk ? Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel ? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel ? P.