The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With a Life, Том 3Little, Brown, 1859 |
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Страница 8
... taste , and sense . Commas and points they set exactly right , And ' twere a sin to rob them of their mite . Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel grac'd these ribalds , From slashing Bentley down to piddling Tibbalds : Each wight who reads not ...
... taste , and sense . Commas and points they set exactly right , And ' twere a sin to rob them of their mite . Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel grac'd these ribalds , From slashing Bentley down to piddling Tibbalds : Each wight who reads not ...
Страница 13
... Taste : see Memoir pre- fixed to these volumes , p . lxxxvi . 7 Lord Hervey : see Memoir prefixed to these volumes , p . xcii . 8 To keep off epilepsy , Lord Hervey lived on ass's milk and biscuits . 1 9 To improve his ghastly ...
... Taste : see Memoir pre- fixed to these volumes , p . lxxxvi . 7 Lord Hervey : see Memoir prefixed to these volumes , p . xcii . 8 To keep off epilepsy , Lord Hervey lived on ass's milk and biscuits . 1 9 To improve his ghastly ...
Страница 14
... tastes , and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well - bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite . Eternal smiles his emptiness betray , As shallow streams run dimpling all the way . Whether in florid impotence he ...
... tastes , and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well - bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite . Eternal smiles his emptiness betray , As shallow streams run dimpling all the way . Whether in florid impotence he ...
Страница 21
... taste , blaspheme quadrille , Abuse the city's best good men in metre , And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter . E'en those you touch not , hate you . P. What should ail ' em ? F. A hundred smart in Timon and in Balaam : The ...
... taste , blaspheme quadrille , Abuse the city's best good men in metre , And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter . E'en those you touch not , hate you . P. What should ail ' em ? F. A hundred smart in Timon and in Balaam : The ...
Страница 30
... taste is insolence indeed : In me ' tis noble , suits my birth and state , My wealth unwieldy , and my heap too great . " Then , like the sun , let bounty spread her ray , And shine that superfluity away . Oh impudence of wealth ! with ...
... taste is insolence indeed : In me ' tis noble , suits my birth and state , My wealth unwieldy , and my heap too great . " Then , like the sun , let bounty spread her ray , And shine that superfluity away . Oh impudence of wealth ! with ...
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abused admire Æneid Ambrose Philips ancient bard Bavius Behold Bishop bless'd called character Charles Gildon Cibber Concanen court cries Curll Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'en Edmund Curll epic EPISTLE Eridanus Essay on Criticism eyes fame fate folly fool genius Gildon goddess grace hath head heaven hero Homer honour Horace Iliad IMITATIONS James Moore king knave labour Laureate learned LEONARD WELSTED Letter LEWIS THEOBALD live Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Hervey lov'd MIST'S JOURNAL moral muse ne'er never o'er octavo Oldmixon once Ovid person pleas'd poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's praise prince printed proud queen REMARKS rhyme saith satire Scriblerus sing song soul sure Swift thee Theobald things thou translated truth verse VIRG Virgil virtue Welsted Whig wings words writ write youth
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Страница 14 - Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Страница 360 - See Mystery to Mathematics fly ! 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 restor'd; Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.
Страница 117 - Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me: Safe from the Bar, the Pulpit, and the Throne, Yet touch'd and sham'd by Ridicule alone.
Страница 7 - And, when I die, be sure you let me know Great Homer died three thousand years ago. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Dipp'd me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Страница 16 - If on a pillory, or near a throne, He gain his prince's ear, or lose his own. Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit...
Страница 8 - Pretty ! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms ! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Страница 141 - Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end, These are thy honours ! not that here thy bust Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dust ; But that the worthy and the good shall say, Striking their pensive bosoms — Here lies GAY...
Страница 3 - 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 360 - Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand opprest, Clos'd one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, Art after Art goes out, and all is Night: See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of Casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Страница 3 - And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope. Friend to my Life ! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song...