The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: To which is Prefixed, a Life of the Author ... |
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Страница 7
Seized and tied down to judge , how wretched I ! Who can't be silent , and who
will not lie : To laugh , were want of goodness and of grace ; And to be grave ,
exceeds all power of face . I sit with sad civility ; I read With honest anguish , and
an ...
Seized and tied down to judge , how wretched I ! Who can't be silent , and who
will not lie : To laugh , were want of goodness and of grace ; And to be grave ,
exceeds all power of face . I sit with sad civility ; I read With honest anguish , and
an ...
Страница 13
... believe , and say my prayers ; Can sleep without a poem in my head , Nor
know if Dennis be alive or dead . Why am I ask'd what next shall see the light ?
Heavens ! was I born for nothing but to write ? Has life no joys for me ? or ( to be
grave ) ...
... believe , and say my prayers ; Can sleep without a poem in my head , Nor
know if Dennis be alive or dead . Why am I ask'd what next shall see the light ?
Heavens ! was I born for nothing but to write ? Has life no joys for me ? or ( to be
grave ) ...
Страница 18
Mr. Pope would treat with the grave severity of Persius ; and what Mr. Pope would
strike with the caustic lightning of Juvenal , Horace would content him . self in
turning into ridicule . If it be asked , then , why he took any body at all to imitate ,
he ...
Mr. Pope would treat with the grave severity of Persius ; and what Mr. Pope would
strike with the caustic lightning of Juvenal , Horace would content him . self in
turning into ridicule . If it be asked , then , why he took any body at all to imitate ,
he ...
Страница 22
... Unplaced , unpension'd , no man's heir or slave ? I will , or perish in the
generous cause : Hear this , and tremble ! you who ' scape the laws . Yes , while I
live , no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave : To Virtue
only ...
... Unplaced , unpension'd , no man's heir or slave ? I will , or perish in the
generous cause : Hear this , and tremble ! you who ' scape the laws . Yes , while I
live , no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave : To Virtue
only ...
Страница 23
But grave epistles , bringing vice to light , Such as a king might read , a bishop
write , Such as sir Robert would approveF. Indeed ! The case is alter'd - you may
then proceed ; In such a case the plaintiff will be hiss'd , My lords the judges
laugh ...
But grave epistles , bringing vice to light , Such as a king might read , a bishop
write , Such as sir Robert would approveF. Indeed ! The case is alter'd - you may
then proceed ; In such a case the plaintiff will be hiss'd , My lords the judges
laugh ...
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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.