The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: To which is Prefixed, a Life of the Author ... |
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Page 9
Granville the polite , And knowing Walsh , would tell me I could write ; Well -
natured Garth inflamed with early praise , And Congreve loved , and Swift
endured , my lays , The courtly Talbot , Somers , Sheffield read , E'en mitred
Rochester ...
Granville the polite , And knowing Walsh , would tell me I could write ; Well -
natured Garth inflamed with early praise , And Congreve loved , and Swift
endured , my lays , The courtly Talbot , Somers , Sheffield read , E'en mitred
Rochester ...
Page 13
Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away , And those they left me — for they
left me Gay : Left me to see neglected genius bloom , Neglected die , and tell it on
his tomb : Of all thy blameless life the sole return My verse , and Queensberry ...
Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away , And those they left me — for they
left me Gay : Left me to see neglected genius bloom , Neglected die , and tell it on
his tomb : Of all thy blameless life the sole return My verse , and Queensberry ...
Page 16
Yet soft by nature , more a dupe than wit , Sappho can tell you how this man was
bit ; This dreaded satirist Dennis will confess Foe to his pride , but friend to his
distress ! So humble , he has knock'd at Tibbald's door , Has drunk with Cibber ...
Yet soft by nature , more a dupe than wit , Sappho can tell you how this man was
bit ; This dreaded satirist Dennis will confess Foe to his pride , but friend to his
distress ! So humble , he has knock'd at Tibbald's door , Has drunk with Cibber ...
Page 22
... repeats , Fond to spread friendships , but to cover heats ; To help who want , to
forward who excel ; This , all who know me , know , who love me , tell ; And who
unknown defame me , let them be Scribblers 22 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
... repeats , Fond to spread friendships , but to cover heats ; To help who want , to
forward who excel ; This , all who know me , know , who love me , tell ; And who
unknown defame me , let them be Scribblers 22 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
Page 26
When luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf , Cursed by thy neighbours , thy trustees ,
thyself ; To friends , to fortune , to mankind a shame , Think how posterity will treat
thy name ; And buy a rope , that future times may tell Thou hast at least bestow'd
...
When luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf , Cursed by thy neighbours , thy trustees ,
thyself ; To friends , to fortune , to mankind a shame , Think how posterity will treat
thy name ; And buy a rope , that future times may tell Thou hast at least bestow'd
...
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admire ancient appears called cause character church court critics Dennis divine dull Dulness Dunciad e'en edition epigram equal Essay eyes face fair fall fame fire fool gave genius give goddess grace grave half hand happy hath head hear heart hero Homer honour keep king known land learned leave less letters light live lord manner mean mind moral muse nature never night o'er once pass person play pleased poem poet poor Pope praise prince printed published queen reason REMARKS rest rhyme rise round satire sense sing sons soul sure tell thee things thou thought town true truth turn verse virtue whole writ write youth
Popular passages
Page 54 - True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.