The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: To which is Prefixed, a Life of the Author ...Z. & B. F. Pratt, 1846 |
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Страница 11
... poets made a Tate . How did they fume , and stamp , and roar , and chafe , And swear not Addison himself was safe . Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles , and fair fame inspires ; Bless'd with each ...
... poets made a Tate . How did they fume , and stamp , and roar , and chafe , And swear not Addison himself was safe . Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles , and fair fame inspires ; Bless'd with each ...
Страница 12
... Poems I heeded ( now be - rhymed so long ) No more than thou , great George ! a birth - day song I ne'er with wits ... poets dead , And a true Pindar stood without a head ) Received of wits an undistinguish'd race , Who first his ...
... Poems I heeded ( now be - rhymed so long ) No more than thou , great George ! a birth - day song I ne'er with wits ... poets dead , And a true Pindar stood without a head ) Received of wits an undistinguish'd race , Who first his ...
Страница 13
... 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 ) Have I no friend to serve , no soul to ...
... 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 ) Have I no friend to serve , no soul to ...
Страница 35
... poets lie : Where Murray ( long enough his country's pride ) Shall be no more than Tully or than Hyde ! Rack'd with sciatics , martyr'd with the stone , Will any mortal let himself alone ? See Ward by batter'd beaux invited over , And ...
... poets lie : Where Murray ( long enough his country's pride ) Shall be no more than Tully or than Hyde ! Rack'd with sciatics , martyr'd with the stone , Will any mortal let himself alone ? See Ward by batter'd beaux invited over , And ...
Страница 38
... poem entirely English , I was willing to add one or two of those which contribute to the happiness of a free people ... poets in general ; whereas he not only pro- hibited all but the best writers to name him , but re- commended that ...
... poem entirely English , I was willing to add one or two of those which contribute to the happiness of a free people ... poets in general ; whereas he not only pro- hibited all but the best writers to name him , but re- commended that ...
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ancient bard Bavius behold bless'd Boileau called charms CHIG church Cibber court cried critics Curll Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'en Edmund Curll epic epigram EPISTLE Essay Essay on Criticism eyes fame fate flatter folly fool genius gentle gentleman Gildon give glory goddess grace grave hath head heart Heaven hero Homer honour Horace Iliad king knave laureate learned Leonard Welsted letters live lord lord Bolingbroke muse never numbers o'er Ogilby once panegyric person pleased poem poet poet's poetry Pope praise prince printed queen racter rage REMARKS rhyme saith satire scholiast Scribl Scriblerus sense Shakspeare shine sing SITY smile song soul sure thee things thou thought throne tion town true truth UNIV verse Virgil virtue Westminster Abbey Whig whore words writ write
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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.
Страница 306 - In vain ! They gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos ! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word ; Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all.
Страница 305 - Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly! In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die, Religion blushing veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires.