The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Band 4Ingram, Cooke, 1854 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 31
Seite 6
... hand unstain'd , his uncorrupted heart , His comprehensive head all interests weigh'd , All Europe saved , yet Britain not betray'd ? He thanks you not , his pride is in piquet , Newmarket fame , and judgment at a bet.8 What made ( say ...
... hand unstain'd , his uncorrupted heart , His comprehensive head all interests weigh'd , All Europe saved , yet Britain not betray'd ? He thanks you not , his pride is in piquet , Newmarket fame , and judgment at a bet.8 What made ( say ...
Seite 10
... hand of her own son , who perhaps hoped to efface this suspicion of his bastardy by this very action ! Historians have neglected to inform us of the fate of this most unhappy mistress and mother . Nothing could have been more ...
... hand of her own son , who perhaps hoped to efface this suspicion of his bastardy by this very action ! Historians have neglected to inform us of the fate of this most unhappy mistress and mother . Nothing could have been more ...
Seite 11
... hand , Yet tames not this ; it sticks to our last sand . Consistent in our follies and our sins , Here honest Nature ends as she begins . Old politicians chew on wisdom past , And totter on in business to the last ; As weak , as earnest ...
... hand , Yet tames not this ; it sticks to our last sand . Consistent in our follies and our sins , Here honest Nature ends as she begins . Old politicians chew on wisdom past , And totter on in business to the last ; As weak , as earnest ...
Seite 26
... hand , and no unerring line ; Some wandering touches , some reflected light , Some flying stroke alone can hit them right : For how should equal colours do the knack ? Cameleons who can paint in white and black ? " Yet Chloe sure was ...
... hand , and no unerring line ; Some wandering touches , some reflected light , Some flying stroke alone can hit them right : For how should equal colours do the knack ? Cameleons who can paint in white and black ? " Yet Chloe sure was ...
Seite 34
... hand , your Grace's sweet disposition to your friends : and , on the other , to show you are near enough related to the thistle of Scotland to deserve the same motto with regard to your enemies . Nemo me impune lacessit . ( Lord William ...
... hand , your Grace's sweet disposition to your friends : and , on the other , to show you are near enough related to the thistle of Scotland to deserve the same motto with regard to your enemies . Nemo me impune lacessit . ( Lord William ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope Ed by the Rev H F Cary Alexander Pope Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2006 |
The Poetical Works Of Alexander Pope;, Band 3 Alexander Pope,John Dennis Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2019 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
afterwards alluded Atossa beauty Bishop Buckingham character Charles charms church Cobham Countess Court cried daughter death died Dodington Dryden Duchess Duchess of Marlborough Duke Duke of Chandos Dunciad e'en Earl edition England Epistle eyes fame favour fool fortune gardens George grace Halifax heart honest honour Horace Horace Walpole James Moore Smythe John King knave Lady Mary Wortley letter lines live Lord Bathurst Lord Fanny Lord Hervey Marchmont Marlborough minister Muse ne'er never noble numbers o'er once passion peer poem poet poet's poor Pope Pope's portrait praise Prince proud Pulteney Queen Queen Caroline rhyme rich Sappho satire says scene shine Sir Gilbert Heathcote Sir Robert Sir Robert Walpole soul Stowe Swift taste tell thee things thou thought town Twas verse vice virtue Walpole Warburton Warton Whig wife Wortley Montagu write
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 76 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long ; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Seite 112 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Seite 117 - Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings; 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.
Seite 105 - 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.
Seite 67 - Young man, there is America, which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men and uncouth manners, yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world.
Seite 87 - His gardens next your admiration call, On every side you look, behold the wall! No pleasing intricacies intervene, No artful wildness to perplex the scene; Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, And half the platform just reflects the other.
Seite 59 - Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow ? From the dry rock who bade the waters flow ? Not to the skies in useless columns tost...
Seite 91 - Flood contain, The Mole projected break the roaring Main; Back to his bounds their subject Sea command, And roll obedient Rivers thro' the Land: These Honours, Peace to happy Britain brings, These are Imperial Works, and worthy Kings.
Seite 132 - There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Seite 112 - 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...