The poetical works of Alexander Pope. With his last corrections, additions, and improvements. From the text of dr. Warburton. With the life of the author [by T. Cibber].1807 |
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Seite 24
... leaves the load of yesterday behind ! How easy every labour it pursues ! How coming to the poet every Muse ! Not but we may exceed some holy time , Or tir'd in search of truth or search of rhyme : Ill - health some just indulgence may ...
... leaves the load of yesterday behind ! How easy every labour it pursues ! How coming to the poet every Muse ! Not but we may exceed some holy time , Or tir'd in search of truth or search of rhyme : Ill - health some just indulgence may ...
Seite 35
... leave that to fate ; Get place and wealth , if possible with grace ; If not , by any means get wealth and place . " For what ? to have a box where eunuchs sing , And foremost in the circle eye a king . Or he who bids thee face with ...
... leave that to fate ; Get place and wealth , if possible with grace ; If not , by any means get wealth and place . " For what ? to have a box where eunuchs sing , And foremost in the circle eye a king . Or he who bids thee face with ...
Seite 42
... leave them to the hogs . ' Thus fools with compliments besiege yc , Contriving never to oblige ye . Scatter your favours on a fop , Ingratitude's the certain crop ; And ' tis but just , I'll tell you wherefore , You give the things you ...
... leave them to the hogs . ' Thus fools with compliments besiege yc , Contriving never to oblige ye . Scatter your favours on a fop , Ingratitude's the certain crop ; And ' tis but just , I'll tell you wherefore , You give the things you ...
Seite 43
Alexander Pope. South - sea subscriptions take who please , Leave me but liberty and ease . ' Twas what I said to Craggs and Child , Who prais'd my modesty , and smil'd . ' Give me , ' I cried , ' ( enough for me , ) My bread and ...
Alexander Pope. South - sea subscriptions take who please , Leave me but liberty and ease . ' Twas what I said to Craggs and Child , Who prais'd my modesty , and smil'd . ' Give me , ' I cried , ' ( enough for me , ) My bread and ...
Seite 49
... leaves to Peter ; The good man heaps up nothing but mere metre , Enjoys his garden and his book in quiet ; And then a perfect hermit in his diet . 195 200 205 210 Of ... leave on Swift this grateful verse engrav'd , IMITATIONS OF HORACE . 49.
... leaves to Peter ; The good man heaps up nothing but mere metre , Enjoys his garden and his book in quiet ; And then a perfect hermit in his diet . 195 200 205 210 Of ... leave on Swift this grateful verse engrav'd , IMITATIONS OF HORACE . 49.
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The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Band 2 Alexander Pope Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 1796 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
abuse ancient bard Bavius Behold Bless'd Charles Gildon charms Cibber court critics Curl dear Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad Epistle Eridanus Essay Essay on Criticism ev'n eyes fame fate flame fool genius gentle Gildon glory goddess grace grave hath head hear heart Heav'n hero Homer honour Horace Iliad IMITATIONS James Moore JOHN DENNIS John Ozell Journal king knave laws learned Leonard Welsted Letter LEWIS THEOBALD live lord lov'd Matthew Concanen moral Muse ne'er never numbers o'er octavo once person pleas'd poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's pow'r praise pray'r printed proud queen rage REMARKS rhyme rise round sacred satire shew shine sighs sing Smil soft song soul Swift tears thee thine thing thou thought town truth verse Virgil virtue Whig wings word writ write youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 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. 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,...
Seite 11 - Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caused himself to rise ; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
Seite 107 - Statesman \ yet friend to Truth! of soul sincere, ' In action faithful, and in honour clear ; 'Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, 'Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend ; 'Ennobled by himself, by all approv'd, 'And prais'd, unenvy'd, by the Muse he lov'd.
Seite 11 - 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...
Seite 118 - I weep my past offence, Now think of thee, and curse my innocence. Of all affliction taught a lover yet, 'Tis sure the hardest science to forget? How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense. And love th
Seite 90 - A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day.
Seite 6 - Sabbath-day to me: Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy! to catch me just at Dinner-time.
Seite 123 - As into air the purer spirits flow, 25 And sep'rate from their kindred dregs below; So flew the soul to its congenial place, Nor left one virtue to redeem her race.
Seite 10 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! 170 The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there?
Seite 116 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God. Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.