The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 3W. Pickering, 1851 - English poetry |
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Page 8
... gave them but their due . A man's true merit ' tis not hard to find ; But each man's secret standard in his mind , That casting weight pride adds to emptiness , This who can gratify ? for who can guess ? The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals ...
... gave them but their due . A man's true merit ' tis not hard to find ; But each man's secret standard in his mind , That casting weight pride adds to emptiness , This who can gratify ? for who can guess ? The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals ...
Page 33
... acre ; Or , if it be thy will and pleasure , Direct my plough to find a treasure ; But only what my station fits , And to be kept in my right wits , VOL . III . D Preserve , almighty Providence ! Just what you gave me OF POPE . 333.
... acre ; Or , if it be thy will and pleasure , Direct my plough to find a treasure ; But only what my station fits , And to be kept in my right wits , VOL . III . D Preserve , almighty Providence ! Just what you gave me OF POPE . 333.
Page 34
Alexander Pope. Preserve , almighty Providence ! Just what you gave me , competence ; And let me in these shades compose Something in verse as true as prose , Remov'd from all th ' ambitious scene , Nor puff'd by pride , nor sunk by ...
Alexander Pope. Preserve , almighty Providence ! Just what you gave me , competence ; And let me in these shades compose Something in verse as true as prose , Remov'd from all th ' ambitious scene , Nor puff'd by pride , nor sunk by ...
Page 44
... gave : I cannot like , dread sir ! your royal cave ; Because I see , by all the tracks about , Full many a beast goes in , but none come out . ' Adieu to virtue , if you're once a slave : Send her to court , you send her to her Well ...
... gave : I cannot like , dread sir ! your royal cave ; Because I see , by all the tracks about , Full many a beast goes in , but none come out . ' Adieu to virtue , if you're once a slave : Send her to court , you send her to her Well ...
Page 52
... gave you first : Or better precepts if you can impart : Why do I'll follow them with all my heart . THE SEVENTH EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE . IN THE MANNER OF DR . SWIFT . ' Tis true , my lord , I gave my word I would be with ...
... gave you first : Or better precepts if you can impart : Why do I'll follow them with all my heart . THE SEVENTH EPISTLE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE . IN THE MANNER OF DR . SWIFT . ' Tis true , my lord , I gave my word I would be with ...
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The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 1 Alexander Pope,Alexander Dyce No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
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 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 numbers o'er octavo 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 throne translation truth verse VIRG Virgil virtue Welsted Whig wings words writ write youth
Popular passages
Page 14 - Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or at the ear of Eve, familiar Toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad, 320 In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Page 9 - He, who still wanting, tho' he lives on theft, Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left: And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning, Means not, but blunders round about a meaning...
Page 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.
Page 108 - Vice is undone, if she forgets her birth, And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth: But 'tis the fall degrades her to a whore; Let...
Page 17 - Born to no pride, inheriting no strife, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious through his age.
Page 3 - And to be grave, exceeds all power of face. I sit with sad civility, I read With honest anguish, and an aching head ; And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, This saving counsel,
Page 2 - SHUT, shut the door, good John ! fatigued, 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, 5 They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Page 360 - And all its varying Rain-bows die away. Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires. As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain ; As Argus
Page 141 - Berkshire, •This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man : 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.
Page 36 - How's the wind ?' ' Whose chariot's that we left behind ?' Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the country signs; Or, ' Have you nothing new to-day ' From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay ?' Such tattle often entertains My lord and me as far as Staines, As once a week we travel down To Windsor, and again to town, Where all that passes inter nos Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross.