The poetical works of Alexander Pope. With his last corrections, additions, and improvements. From the text of dr. Warburton. With the life of the author [by T. Cibber].1807 |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 67.
Pàgina 5
... never be found out but by its truth and likeness . P. " 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 ...
... never be found out but by its truth and likeness . P. " 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 ...
Pàgina 7
... never name queens , ministers , or kings ; Keep close to ears , and those let asses prick , ' Tis nothing . — P . Nothing ! if they bite and kick ? Out with it , Dunciad ! let the secret pass , That secret to each fool , that he's an ...
... never name queens , ministers , or kings ; Keep close to ears , and those let asses prick , ' Tis nothing . — P . Nothing ! if they bite and kick ? Out with it , Dunciad ! let the secret pass , That secret to each fool , that he's an ...
Pàgina 9
... never answer'd ; I was not in debt . If want provok'd , or madness made them print , 155 I wag'd no war with Bedlam or the Mint . Did some more sober critic come abroad ; If wrong I smil'd , if right I kiss'd the rod . Pains , reading ...
... never answer'd ; I was not in debt . If want provok'd , or madness made them print , 155 I wag'd no war with Bedlam or the Mint . Did some more sober critic come abroad ; If wrong I smil'd , if right I kiss'd the rod . Pains , reading ...
Pàgina 13
... never can lie still ; " And then for mine obligingly mistakes The first lampoon Sir Will or Bubo makes . Poor guiltless I ! and can I chuse but smile , When every coxcomb knows me by my style ? Curst be the verse , how well soe'er it ...
... never can lie still ; " And then for mine obligingly mistakes The first lampoon Sir Will or Bubo makes . Poor guiltless I ! and can I chuse but smile , When every coxcomb knows me by my style ? Curst be the verse , how well soe'er it ...
Pàgina 14
... never had , The dull , the proud , the wicked , and the mad ; The distant threats of vengeance on his head , The blow unfelt , the tear he never shed ; The tale reviv'd , the lie so oft o'erthrown , 335 340 845 350 Th ' imputed trash ...
... never had , The dull , the proud , the wicked , and the mad ; The distant threats of vengeance on his head , The blow unfelt , the tear he never shed ; The tale reviv'd , the lie so oft o'erthrown , 335 340 845 350 Th ' imputed trash ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volum 2 Alexander Pope Visualització completa - 1804 |
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volum 2 Alexander Pope Previsualització no disponible - 1796 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
abuse ancient bard Bavius Behold Bless'd Charles Gildon charms Cibber court critics Curl dear Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad Epistle Eridanus Essay Essay on Criticism ev'n eyes fame fate flame fool genius gentle Gildon glory goddess grace grave hath head hear heart Heav'n hero Homer honour Horace Iliad IMITATIONS James Moore JOHN DENNIS John Ozell Journal king knave laws learned Leonard Welsted Letter LEWIS THEOBALD live lord lov'd Matthew Concanen moral Muse ne'er never numbers o'er octavo once person pleas'd poem poet poet's poetry Pope Pope's pow'r praise pray'r printed proud queen rage REMARKS rhyme rise round sacred satire shew shine sighs sing Smil soft song soul Swift tears thee thine thing thou thought town truth verse Virgil virtue Whig wings word writ write youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 14 - 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. 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,...
Pàgina 11 - Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caused himself to rise ; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
Pàgina 107 - Statesman \ yet friend to Truth! of soul sincere, ' In action faithful, and in honour clear ; 'Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, 'Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend ; 'Ennobled by himself, by all approv'd, 'And prais'd, unenvy'd, by the Muse he lov'd.
Pàgina 11 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — 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...
Pàgina 118 - I weep my past offence, Now think of thee, and curse my innocence. Of all affliction taught a lover yet, 'Tis sure the hardest science to forget? How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense. And love th
Pàgina 90 - A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day.
Pàgina 6 - Sabbath-day to me: Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy! to catch me just at Dinner-time.
Pàgina 123 - As into air the purer spirits flow, 25 And sep'rate from their kindred dregs below; So flew the soul to its congenial place, Nor left one virtue to redeem her race.
Pàgina 10 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! 170 The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there?
Pàgina 116 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God. Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.