The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Band 2 |
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Seite 11
... nonsense leaning , Means not , but blunders round about a meaning i And he ,
whose fustian's so sublimely bad , It is not poetry , but prose run mad : All these
my modest satire bade translate , And own'd that nine such poets made a Tate .
... nonsense leaning , Means not , but blunders round about a meaning i And he ,
whose fustian's so sublimely bad , It is not poetry , but prose run mad : All these
my modest satire bade translate , And own'd that nine such poets made a Tate .
Seite 21
My head and heart thus flowing through my quill , Verseman or Proseman , term
me which you will , Papist or Protestant , or both between , Like good Erasmus in
an honest mean , In moderation placing all my glory , While Tories call me Whig ...
My head and heart thus flowing through my quill , Verseman or Proseman , term
me which you will , Papist or Protestant , or both between , Like good Erasmus in
an honest mean , In moderation placing all my glory , While Tories call me Whig ...
Seite 22
P. What ! arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen , Brand the bold front of shameless
guilty men ; Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car ; Bare the mean heart that
lurks beneath a star ; Can there be wanting , to defend her cause , Lights of the ...
P. What ! arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen , Brand the bold front of shameless
guilty men ; Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car ; Bare the mean heart that
lurks beneath a star ; Can there be wanting , to defend her cause , Lights of the ...
Seite 24
Tis yet in vain , I own , to keep a pother About one vice , and fall into the other :
Between excess and famine lies a mean ; ) Plain , but not sordid .; though not
splendid , clean , Avidien , or his wife , ( no matter which , For him you ' ll call a
dog ...
Tis yet in vain , I own , to keep a pother About one vice , and fall into the other :
Between excess and famine lies a mean ; ) Plain , but not sordid .; though not
splendid , clean , Avidien , or his wife , ( no matter which , For him you ' ll call a
dog ...
Seite 31
Who counsels best ? who whispers , ' Be but great , With praise or infamy , 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 ...
Who counsels best ? who whispers , ' Be but great , With praise or infamy , 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 ...
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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.
Bibliografische Informationen
| Titel | The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Band 2 The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Alexander Pope |
| Autor/in | Alexander Pope |
| Verlag | J. Gladding, 1836 |
| Original von | New York Public Library |
| Digitalisiert | 2. Dez. 2006 |
| Zitat exportieren | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |