The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Band 2 |
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Seite 10
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 guesa ? The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown , Who turns a 10
POPE'S ...
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 guesa ? The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown , Who turns a 10
POPE'S ...
Seite 25
On morning wings how active springs the mind , That leaves the load of
yesterday behind ! How easy every labour it pursues ! Ilow coming to the poet
every Muse ! Not but we may exceed , some holy time , Or tired in search of truth ,
or search ...
On morning wings how active springs the mind , That leaves the load of
yesterday behind ! How easy every labour it pursues ! Ilow coming to the poet
every Muse ! Not but we may exceed , some holy time , Or tired in search of truth ,
or search ...
Seite 26
Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind , Prepares a dreadful jest for all
mankind . And who stands safest ? tell me , is it he That spreads and swells in
puff'd prosperity , 3 Or bless'd with little , whose preventing care In 26 POPE'S ...
Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind , Prepares a dreadful jest for all
mankind . And who stands safest ? tell me , is it he That spreads and swells in
puff'd prosperity , 3 Or bless'd with little , whose preventing care In 26 POPE'S ...
Seite 27
Thus Bethel spoke , who always speaks his thought , And always thinks the very
thing he ought : His equal mind I copy what I can , And as I love , would imitate
the man . In South - sea days not happier , when surmised , The lord of
thousands ...
Thus Bethel spoke , who always speaks his thought , And always thinks the very
thing he ought : His equal mind I copy what I can , And as I love , would imitate
the man . In South - sea days not happier , when surmised , The lord of
thousands ...
Seite 33
But when no prelate's lawn , with hair - shirt lined , Is half so incoherent as my
mind , When ( each opinion with the next at strife ; One ebb and flow of follies all
my life , ) I plant , root up ; I build and then confound ; Turn round to square , and ...
But when no prelate's lawn , with hair - shirt lined , Is half so incoherent as my
mind , When ( each opinion with the next at strife ; One ebb and flow of follies all
my life , ) I plant , root up ; I build and then confound ; Turn round to square , and ...
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Beliebte Passagen
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.