The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 3W. Pickering, 1851 |
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Página 1
... hand to this epistle . If it have any thing pleasing , it will be that by which I am most desirous to please , the truth and the sentiment ; and if any thing offensive , it will be only to those I am least sorry to offend , the vicious ...
... hand to this epistle . If it have any thing pleasing , it will be that by which I am most desirous to please , the truth and the sentiment ; and if any thing offensive , it will be only to those I am least sorry to offend , the vicious ...
Página 2
... hand , They rave , recite , and madden round the land . What walls can guard me , or what shades can hide ? They pierce my thickets , through my grot they glide , By land , by water , they renew the charge , They stop the chariot , and ...
... hand , They rave , recite , and madden round the land . What walls can guard me , or what shades can hide ? They pierce my thickets , through my grot they glide , By land , by water , they renew the charge , They stop the chariot , and ...
Página 11
Alexander Pope. Fed with soft dedication all day long , Horace and he went hand in hand in song . His library ( where ... hands ! Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away , And those they left me— -for they left me Gay ; Left me to ...
Alexander Pope. Fed with soft dedication all day long , Horace and he went hand in hand in song . His library ( where ... hands ! Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away , And those they left me— -for they left me Gay ; Left me to ...
Página 30
... the man . In south sea days , not happier , when surmis'd The lord of thousands , than if now excis'd ; 3 A stroke of satire at the avarice of the Duke of Marl- borough . In forest planted by a father's hand , Than in 30 THE POEMS.
... the man . In south sea days , not happier , when surmis'd The lord of thousands , than if now excis'd ; 3 A stroke of satire at the avarice of the Duke of Marl- borough . In forest planted by a father's hand , Than in 30 THE POEMS.
Página 31
Alexander Pope. In forest planted by a father's hand , Than in five acres now of rented land . 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 ...
Alexander Pope. In forest planted by a father's hand , Than in five acres now of rented land . 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 ...
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The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 1 Alexander Pope,Alexander Dyce Pré-visualização indisponível - 2015 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
abused admire Æneid Ambrose Philips ancient bard Bavius Behold Bishop bless'd called character Charles Gildon Cibber Concanen court cries Curll Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'en epic EPISTLE Eridanus Essay on Criticism eyes fame fate folly fool genius Gildon goddess grace hath head heaven hero Homer honour Horace Iliad IMITATIONS James Moore king knave labour Laureate learned LEONARD WELSTED Letter LEWIS THEOBALD live Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Hervey lov'd MIST'S JOURNAL moral muse ne'er never numbers o'er octavo once Ovid person pleas'd poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's praise prince printed proud queen REMARKS rhyme saith satire Scriblerus sing song soul sure Swift thee Theobald things thou throne translation truth verse VIRG Virgil virtue Welsted Whig wings words writ write youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 14 - Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, 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, 320 In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies, Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
Página 9 - He, who still wanting, tho' he lives on theft, Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left: And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning, Means not, but blunders round about a meaning...
Página 7 - And, when I die, be sure you let me know Great Homer died three thousand years ago. Why did I write? what sin to me unknown Dipp'd me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Página 108 - Vice is undone, if she forgets her birth, And stoops from angels to the dregs of earth: But 'tis the fall degrades her to a whore; Let...
Página 17 - Born to no pride, inheriting no strife, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious through his age.
Página 3 - And to be grave, exceeds all power of face. I sit with sad civility, I read With honest anguish, and an aching head ; And drop at last, but in unwilling ears, This saving counsel,
Página 2 - SHUT, shut the door, good John ! fatigued, 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, 5 They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Página 360 - And all its varying Rain-bows 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
Página 141 - Berkshire, •This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say, Here lies an honest man : 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.
Página 36 - How's the wind ?' ' Whose chariot's that we left behind ?' Or gravely try to read the lines Writ underneath the country signs; Or, ' Have you nothing new to-day ' From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay ?' Such tattle often entertains My lord and me as far as Staines, As once a week we travel down To Windsor, and again to town, Where all that passes inter nos Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross.