The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Band 2 |
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Seite 6
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 . What walls can guard me , or what shades can hide ? They
pierce ...
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 . What walls can guard me , or what shades can hide ? They
pierce ...
Seite 11
Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles , and fair
fame inspires ; Bless'd with each talent and each art to please , And born to write ,
converse , and live with ease ; Should such a man , tog fond to rule alone , Bear ...
Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles , and fair
fame inspires ; Bless'd with each talent and each art to please , And born to write ,
converse , and live with ease ; Should such a man , tog fond to rule alone , Bear ...
Seite 20
Or nobly wild , with Budgell's fire and force , Paint angels trembling round his
fallen horse ? F. Then all your muse's softer art display ; Let Carolina smooth the
tuneful lay ; Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine , And sweetly flow through all
...
Or nobly wild , with Budgell's fire and force , Paint angels trembling round his
fallen horse ? F. Then all your muse's softer art display ; Let Carolina smooth the
tuneful lay ; Lull with Amelia's liquid name the Nine , And sweetly flow through all
...
Seite 28
A voice there is , that whispers in my ear , ( ' Tis reason's voice , which sometimes
one can hear , ) * Friend Pope ! be prudent , let your Muse take breath , And
never gallop Pegasus to death ; Lest stiff and stately , void of fire or force 28
POPE'S ...
A voice there is , that whispers in my ear , ( ' Tis reason's voice , which sometimes
one can hear , ) * Friend Pope ! be prudent , let your Muse take breath , And
never gallop Pegasus to death ; Lest stiff and stately , void of fire or force 28
POPE'S ...
Seite 29
Lest stiff and stately , void of fire or force , You limp , like Blackmore on a lord
mayor's horse . ' Farewell then verse , and love , and every toy , The rhymes and
rattles of the man or boy ; What right , what true , what fit , we justly call , Let this
be ...
Lest stiff and stately , void of fire or force , You limp , like Blackmore on a lord
mayor's horse . ' Farewell then verse , and love , and every toy , The rhymes and
rattles of the man or boy ; What right , what true , what fit , we justly call , Let this
be ...
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Seite 4 - 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.
Seite 9 - 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 8 - Soft were my numbers ; who could take offence While pure description held the place of sense ? Like gentle Fanny's was my flowery theme, A painted mistress, or a purling stream.
Seite 129 - 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. Calmly he look'd on either life ; and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heaven that he had liv'd, and that he died.
Seite 5 - A virgin tragedy, an orphan muse.' If I dislike it, 'Furies, death and rage !' If I approve, 'Commend it to the stage.
Seite 304 - 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 restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word; Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall, And universal Darkness buries all.
Seite 4 - 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 9 - Peace to all such ! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease : Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Seite 303 - Before her Fancy's gilded clouds decay, And all its varying rainbows 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
Seite 12 - 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.