The Works of Alexander Pope, Том 2

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Страница 36 - The darksome pines, that o'er yon rocks reclin'd, Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze ; No more these scenes my meditation aid, Or lull to rest the visionary maid...
Страница 89 - Then came the smallest tribe I yet had seen, Plain was their dress, and modest was their mien. Great idol of mankind ! we neither claim The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame ! But safe in deserts from th...
Страница 42 - Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!) Long lov'd, ador'd ideas!
Страница 289 - The lust of lucre, and the dread of death. In vain to deserts thy retreat is made; The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade: 'Tis hers, the brave man's latest steps to trace, Rejudge his acts, and dignify disgrace. 30 When int'rest calls off all her sneaking train And all th...
Страница 378 - 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 32 - Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind. Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring every ray, Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day. Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n listen'd while you sung; And truths divine came mended from that tongue. From lips like those what precept fail'd to move? Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love: Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran, Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'da Man.
Страница 35 - With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voiced quire below In service high and anthems clear As may with sweetness, through mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heaven before mine eyes.
Страница 294 - Michael Angelo's works have a strong, peculiar, and marked character: they seem to proceed from his own mind entirely, and that mind so rich and abundant, that he never needed, or seemed to disdain, to look abroad for foreign help. Raphael's materials are generally borrowed, though the noble structure is his own.
Страница 377 - A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great : Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace. Calmly he look'd on either life ; and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heaven that he had liv'd, and that he died.
Страница 146 - Or else she dances with becoming grace, Or shape excuses the defects of face. There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late She finds some honest gander for her mate.

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