The Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 4

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J.F. Dove, St. John's Square, 1822
 

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Pagina 13 - twas when he knew no better. Dare you refuse him? Curll invites to dine, 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.
Pagina 32 - 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...
Pagina 32 - 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...
Pagina 408 - 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.
Pagina 337 - 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.
Pagina 37 - 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 unfeathered two-legged thing, a son; Got, while his soul did huddled notions try; And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.
Pagina 77 - 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...
Pagina 45 - 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.
Pagina 53 - 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...
Pagina 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?

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