The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Esq., to which is Prefixed the Life of the Author, Band 2 |
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Seite 7
He'll write a journal , or he'll turn divine . ' Bless me ! a packet .-- " ' Tis a stranger
sues : A virgin tragedy , an orphan muse . ' If I dislike it , ' Furies , death , and rage
! ' If I approve , ' Commend it to the stage . ' There ( thank my stars ) my whole ...
He'll write a journal , or he'll turn divine . ' Bless me ! a packet .-- " ' Tis a stranger
sues : A virgin tragedy , an orphan muse . ' If I dislike it , ' Furies , death , and rage
! ' If I approve , ' Commend it to the stage . ' There ( thank my stars ) my whole ...
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 11
The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown , Who turns a Persian tale for half a
crown ; Just writes to make his barrenness appear , And strains from hard -
bound brains eight lines a year : He who , still wanting , though he lives on theft ,
Steals ...
The bard whom pilfer'd pastorals renown , Who turns a Persian tale for half a
crown ; Just writes to make his barrenness appear , And strains from hard -
bound brains eight lines a year : He who , still wanting , though he lives on theft ,
Steals ...
Seite 23
( A doctrine sage , but truly none of mine ; ) Let's talk , my friends , but talk before
we dine , Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride Turns you from sound philosophy
aside : Not when from plate to plate your eye - balls roll , And the brain dances to
...
( A doctrine sage , but truly none of mine ; ) Let's talk , my friends , but talk before
we dine , Not when a gilt buffet's reflected pride Turns you from sound philosophy
aside : Not when from plate to plate your eye - balls roll , And the brain dances to
...
Seite 27
Content with little I can piddle here On brocoli and mutton , round the year ; But
ancient friends ( though poor , or out of play ) That touch my bell , I cannot turn
away . ' Tis true , no turbots dignify my boards , But gudgeons , flounders , what
my ...
Content with little I can piddle here On brocoli and mutton , round the year ; But
ancient friends ( though poor , or out of play ) That touch my bell , I cannot turn
away . ' Tis true , no turbots dignify my boards , But gudgeons , flounders , what
my ...
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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 |