The poetical works of Alexander PopeCrissy & Markley., 1865 |
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Страница xv
... sacred and too circumscribed pale virtue and worth are not readily recognised by them , and what their affection gains in intensity is purchased by illiberal narrow- ness . In 1721 Pope engaged to edit Shakspeare , a task for which he ...
... sacred and too circumscribed pale virtue and worth are not readily recognised by them , and what their affection gains in intensity is purchased by illiberal narrow- ness . In 1721 Pope engaged to edit Shakspeare , a task for which he ...
Страница xvii
... sacred writings . His religion allows him to destroy heretics , not only with his pen but with fire and sword ; and such were all those un- happy wits whom he sacrificed to his accursed Popish prin- ciples . It deserved vengeance to ...
... sacred writings . His religion allows him to destroy heretics , not only with his pen but with fire and sword ; and such were all those un- happy wits whom he sacrificed to his accursed Popish prin- ciples . It deserved vengeance to ...
Страница xxiii
... sacred fountains of Christian lore . For there is a deadness and coldness about them , a want of something to satisfy the heart , of something to rest in as in an ark . And so it is in reading Pope . his poetic heaven there is a sun ...
... sacred fountains of Christian lore . For there is a deadness and coldness about them , a want of something to satisfy the heart , of something to rest in as in an ark . And so it is in reading Pope . his poetic heaven there is a sun ...
Страница xxvii
... . 128 AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM , WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1709 , 148 · THE BAPE OF THE LOCK- Canto First , Canto Second , Canto Third , Canto Fourth , Canto Fifth , 165 168 • 171 174 • 178 WINDSOR FOREST , MESSIAH , A SACRED ECLOGUE : IN.
... . 128 AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM , WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1709 , 148 · THE BAPE OF THE LOCK- Canto First , Canto Second , Canto Third , Canto Fourth , Canto Fifth , 165 168 • 171 174 • 178 WINDSOR FOREST , MESSIAH , A SACRED ECLOGUE : IN.
Страница xxviii
Alexander Pope. WINDSOR FOREST , MESSIAH , A SACRED ECLOGUE : IN IMITATION OF VIRGIL'S " POLLIO , " . THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER , ODES- Ode on St Cecilia's Day , · Ode on Solitude , PAGE 182 192 197 199 · 202 • 203 204 • 206 · 207 209 • · 214 ...
Alexander Pope. WINDSOR FOREST , MESSIAH , A SACRED ECLOGUE : IN IMITATION OF VIRGIL'S " POLLIO , " . THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER , ODES- Ode on St Cecilia's Day , · Ode on Solitude , PAGE 182 192 197 199 · 202 • 203 204 • 206 · 207 209 • · 214 ...
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admire Æneid ancient bard beauty behold blest breast bright Charles Gildon charms Cibber court cried critics Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'er eclogue epic Essay on Criticism eyes fair fame fate fire flames fools genius gentle give glory goddess gods grace hand happy hath head heart Heaven hero Homer honour Iliad John Dennis kings learn'd learned Leonard Welsted LEWIS THEOBALD live lord Matthew Concanen mind muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once passion pastoral plain pleased poem poet poetry Pope praise pride queen rage reign rhyme rise round sacred Sappho satire sense shade shew shine sighs sing skies soft soul sylphs tears Thalestris thee Theocritus thine things thou thought throne trembling true Twas verse Virgil virtue wings words write youth
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Страница 203 - The world recedes: it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy Victory? O Death! where is thy Sting.
Страница 320 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; 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 load, On wings of winds came flying...
Страница 16 - See, through this air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high, progressive life may go ! Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! Vast chain of being ! which from God began, Natures ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach ; from infinite to thee, From thee to nothing.
Страница 18 - Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confused; Still by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd: The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
Страница 22 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Страница 13 - Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar, Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore. What future bliss he gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy and confined, from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Страница 202 - Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
Страница 197 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives ; To enjoy is to obey.
Страница 195 - Rise, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rise ! Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes ! See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies...
Страница 197 - FATHER of all ! in every age, In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord ! Thou great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense confined To know but this, that Thou art good, And that myself am blind ; Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill ; And binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will. What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue.