The Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 4J.F. Dove, St. John's Square, 1822 |
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Addison admirable Æneid Alluding ancient atque Augustus Author beauty Ben Jonson better Bishop Boileau Brutus called censure character Corneille Court Critic Dacier divine Donne Dryden Dunciad Elijah Fenton English Epic Epistle Ev'n ev'ry excellent fable father fool French genius give grace Homer honour Horace Iliad imitation invention judgment King language laugh learned lines live Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lucilius manner mean Milton moral Muse nature never NOTES numbers nunc observed Odyssey Original passage passions person piece Pindar Plutarch Poem Poet Poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's Pow'r praise Prince quæ quam quid Quintilian quod racter rhyme ridicule Satire says sense Shakspeare shew speak spirit style sublime Swift tamen taste thing Thomas Warton thought tibi tion tragedy translation true truth verse Virgil Virtue Voltaire Whig whole words write wrote
Popular passages
Page 26 - 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...
Page 26 - 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...
Page 388 - Read Homer once, and you can read no more ; For all books else appear so mean, so poor, Verse will seem prose : but still persist to read, And Homer will be all the books you need.
Page 321 - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year, most part, deform'd With dripping rains, or withered by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers.
Page 69 - Rolls o'er my grotto, and but sooths my sleep. There, my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place. There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul : And he, whose lightning pierc'd th...
Page 31 - Refuse his age the needful hours of rest? Punish a body which he could not please ; Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease ? And all to leave what with his toil he won, To that unfeather'd two-legg'd thing, a son ; Got, while his soul did huddled notions try ; And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.
Page 39 - 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, In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Page 47 - Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of reposing age, With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death, Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep awhile one parent from the sky...
Page 11 - 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?
Page 28 - 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 all abroad?