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The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volum 1
Visualització completa - 1796
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volum 5
Visualització completa - 1804
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volum 3
Visualització completa - 1796
ancient appear arms bear beauty bold charms court critics divine doubt draw e'er ev'n ev'ry eyes face fair faith fall fame Fate fear fire flame folly fools give glory grace hair hand head hear heart heav'n honour judge judgment kind king Knight laws learning leave light live look lord mean merit mind move Muse Nature ne'er never numbers o'er once painted past poets pow'r praise pride proud rage rest rise round rules sacred Satire sense shade shame shine smile soul sound speak spirits strange sure tell things thou thought thro tongue trembling true truth turn Twas vain vice virtue weak wife wing wise write youth
Pàgina 113 - The sound must seem an echo to the sense : Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar : When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow ; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Pàgina 107 - A little learning is a dangerous thing ; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again.
Pàgina 16 - Or roll the planets through the boundless sky. Some less refin'd, beneath the moon's pale light Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night, Or suck the mists in grosser air below, Or dip their pinions in the painted bow, Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main, Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain.
Pàgina 113 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense: Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar.
Pàgina 208 - Yes, I am proud ; I must be proud to see Men, not afraid of God, afraid of me ; Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, Yet touch'd and sham'd by ridicule alone.
Pàgina 35 - Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air, Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair; The doubtful beam long nods from side to side; At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. See fierce Belinda on the baron flies, With more than usual lightning in her eyes: Nor fear'd the chief th' unequal fight to try, Who sought no more than on his foe to die.
Pàgina 13 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends ; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
Pàgina 19 - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.
Pàgina 110 - Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering thoughts struck out at every line ; Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit, One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. Poets, like painters, thus unskill'd to trace The naked nature and the living grace, With gold and jewels cover every part, And hide with ornaments their want of art.