The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: To which is Prefixed, a Life of the Author ...Z. & B. F. Pratt, 1846 |
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Page 10
... sense ? Like gentle Fanny's was my flowery theme , A painted mistress , or a purling stream . ' Yet then did Gildon draw his venal quill ; I wish'd the man a dinner , and sat still : Yet then did Dennis rave in furious fret ; I never ...
... sense ? Like gentle Fanny's was my flowery theme , A painted mistress , or a purling stream . ' Yet then did Gildon draw his venal quill ; I wish'd the man a dinner , and sat still : Yet then did Dennis rave in furious fret ; I never ...
Page 11
... sense , now nonsense leaning , Means not , but blunders round about a meaning ; And he , whose fustian's so sublimely bad , It is not poetry , but prose run mad : All these my modest satire bade translate , And own'd that nine such ...
... sense , now nonsense leaning , Means not , but blunders round about a meaning ; And he , whose fustian's so sublimely bad , It is not poetry , but prose run mad : All these my modest satire bade translate , And own'd that nine such ...
Page 12
... defence , Or envy holds a whole week's war with sense , Or simple pride for flattery makes demands , May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands . Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away 12 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
... defence , Or envy holds a whole week's war with sense , Or simple pride for flattery makes demands , May dunce by dunce be whistled off my hands . Bless'd be the great ! for those they take away 12 POPE'S POETICAL WORKS .
Page 14
... sense of it without the love ; Who has the vanity to call you friend , Yet wants the honour , injured , to defend ; Who tells whate'er you think , whate'er you say , And , if he lie not , must at least betray ; Who to the dean and ...
... sense of it without the love ; Who has the vanity to call you friend , Yet wants the honour , injured , to defend ; Who tells whate'er you think , whate'er you say , And , if he lie not , must at least betray ; Who to the dean and ...
Page 23
... schools , But strong in sense , and wise without the rules . ' Go work , hunt , exercise , ' he thus began , ' Then scorn a homely dinner , if you can . Your wine lock'd up , your butler stroll'd abroad , IMITATIONS OF HORACE . 23.
... schools , But strong in sense , and wise without the rules . ' Go work , hunt , exercise , ' he thus began , ' Then scorn a homely dinner , if you can . Your wine lock'd up , your butler stroll'd abroad , IMITATIONS OF HORACE . 23.
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Common terms and phrases
ancient bard Bavius behold bless'd Boileau called charms CHIG church Cibber court cried critics Curll Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'en Edmund Curll epic epigram EPISTLE Essay Essay on Criticism eyes fame fate flatter folly fool genius gentle gentleman Gildon give glory goddess grace grave hath head heart Heaven hero Homer honour Horace Iliad king knave laureate learned Leonard Welsted letters live lord lord Bolingbroke muse never numbers o'er Ogilby once panegyric person pleased poem poet poet's poetry Pope praise prince printed queen racter rage REMARKS rhyme saith satire scholiast Scribl Scriblerus sense Shakspeare shine sing SITY smile song soul sure thee things thou thought throne tion town true truth UNIV verse Virgil virtue Westminster Abbey Whig whore words writ write
Popular passages
Page 54 - True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
Page 6 - 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, They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Page 106 - twixt reading and Bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary Tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon...
Page 12 - Till grown more frugal in his riper days, He paid some bards with port, and some with praise ; To some a dry rehearsal was assign'd, And others (harder still) he paid in kind.
Page 11 - 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...
Page 6 - 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 ? Or which must end me, a fool's wrath or love ? A dire dilemma! either way I'm sped, If foes, they write, — if friends, they read me dead.
Page 280 - Some gentle James, to bless the land again ; To stick the doctor's chair into the throne, Give law to words, or war with words alone, Senates and courts with Greek and Latin rule, And turn the council to a grammar school ! For sure, if Dulness sees a grateful day, 'Tis in the shade of arbitrary sway.
Page 14 - What ? that thing of silk, Sporus, that mere white curd of Ass's milk ? Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel ? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel ? P.
Page 306 - In vain ! They gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos ! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word ; Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all.
Page 305 - Heav'n before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly! In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die, Religion blushing veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires.