The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With a Life, Том 3Little, Brown, 1859 |
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Страница 59
... sing , we dance , as well ; And learned Athens to our art must stoop , Could she behold us tumbling through a hoop , If time improve our wit as well as wine , Say at what age a poet grows divine ? Shall we , or shall we not , account ...
... sing , we dance , as well ; And learned Athens to our art must stoop , Could she behold us tumbling through a hoop , If time improve our wit as well as wine , Say at what age a poet grows divine ? Shall we , or shall we not , account ...
Страница 65
... sings down pope and Turk . The silenc'd preacher yields to potent strain , And feels that grace his prayer besought in vain ; The blessing thrills thro ' all the labouring throng , And heaven is won by violence of song . Our rural ...
... sings down pope and Turk . The silenc'd preacher yields to potent strain , And feels that grace his prayer besought in vain ; The blessing thrills thro ' all the labouring throng , And heaven is won by violence of song . Our rural ...
Страница 69
... sing ? Who climb their mountain , or who taste their spring ? How shall we fill a library with wit , When Merlin's cave1 is half unfurnish'd yet ? 1 A building in the royal gardens at Richmond , where there was a small but choice ...
... sing ? Who climb their mountain , or who taste their spring ? How shall we fill a library with wit , When Merlin's cave1 is half unfurnish'd yet ? 1 A building in the royal gardens at Richmond , where there was a small but choice ...
Страница 70
... sing , or cease to sing , we never know ; And if we will recite nine hours in ten , You lose your patience just like other men . Then , too , we hurt ourselves when , to defend A single verse , we quarrel with a friend ; Repeat , unask ...
... sing , or cease to sing , we never know ; And if we will recite nine hours in ten , You lose your patience just like other men . Then , too , we hurt ourselves when , to defend A single verse , we quarrel with a friend ; Repeat , unask ...
Страница 71
... sing ! What seas you travers'd , and what fields you fought ! Your country's peace how oft , how dearly bought ! How barbarous rage subsided at your word , And nations wonder'd while they dropp'd the sword ! How , when you nodded , o'er ...
... sing ! What seas you travers'd , and what fields you fought ! Your country's peace how oft , how dearly bought ! How barbarous rage subsided at your word , And nations wonder'd while they dropp'd the sword ! How , when you nodded , o'er ...
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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...