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 7
... write ; if friends , they read me dead . 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 ...
... write ; if friends , they read me dead . 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 ...
Страница 8
... table Bavius still admit ? Still to one bishop Phillips seem a wit ? Still Sappho - A . Hold ; for God's sake - you'll offend No names - be calm - learn prudence of a friend : I too could write , and I am twice as 8 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
... table Bavius still admit ? Still to one bishop Phillips seem a wit ? Still Sappho - A . Hold ; for God's sake - you'll offend No names - be calm - learn prudence of a friend : I too could write , and I am twice as 8 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
Страница 9
... write , and I am twice as tall ; But foes like these - P . One flatterer's worse than all Of all mad creatures , if the learn'd are right , It is the slaver kills , and not the bite . A fool quite angry is quite innocent : Alas ! ' tis ...
... write , and I am twice as tall ; But foes like these - P . One flatterer's worse than all Of all mad creatures , if the learn'd are right , It is the slaver kills , and not the bite . A fool quite angry is quite innocent : Alas ! ' tis ...
Страница 11
... writes to make his barrenness appear , And strains from hard - bound brains eight lines a year He who , still wanting ... write , converse , and live with ease ; Should such a man , too fond to rule alone , Bear , like the Turk , no ...
... writes to make his barrenness appear , And strains from hard - bound brains eight lines a year He who , still wanting ... write , converse , and live with ease ; Should such a man , too fond to rule alone , Bear , like the Turk , no ...
Страница 12
... write : I kept , like Asian monarchs , from their sight : Poems I heeded ( now be - rhymed so long ) No more than thou , great George ! a birth - day song I ne'er with wits or witlings pass'd my days , To spread about the itch of verse ...
... write : I kept , like Asian monarchs , from their sight : Poems I heeded ( now be - rhymed so long ) No more than thou , great George ! a birth - day song I ne'er with wits or witlings pass'd my days , To spread about the itch of verse ...
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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.