The Works of Alexander Pope: Satires, &cJ. and P. Knapton, 1751 |
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Page 18
... a man there be ? Who would not weep , if ATTICUS were he ! 210 216 What tho ' my Name stood rubric on the walls , Or plaister'd pofts , with claps , in capitals ? Or fmoaking forth , a hundred hawkers load , On wings of winds came ...
... a man there be ? Who would not weep , if ATTICUS were he ! 210 216 What tho ' my Name stood rubric on the walls , Or plaister'd pofts , with claps , in capitals ? Or fmoaking forth , a hundred hawkers load , On wings of winds came ...
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aetas againſt atque becauſe beſt Biſhop cauſe Court Dunciad eaſe Epiftle ev'n ev'ry expreffion faid fame faſhion fatire fhall fhould fibi fince fing firft firſt fome fomething fool foul fpirit ftill fuch fuit fure grace himſelf honeft honour Horace houſe imitation juft juſt King Knave laft laſt Laws leaſt lefs Lord Lord Fanny lov'd ludicra Minifters moſt Mufe Muſe muſt ne'er neque never nihil NOTES numbers nunc o'er Original perfon Pindar pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure Poet Poet's poft Pow'r praiſe profe Pythagorea quae quam quid quod racter reaſon rhyme rifu Satire SATIRE IV ſay ſcarce ſenſe Shakeſpear ſhall ſtate ſtill ſuch tamen Thefe themſelves theſe thing thofe thoſe thought thouſand thro tibi uſe verfe verfus verſe Virtue Whig whofe whoſe wife worfe writ write
Popular passages
Page 18 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Page 17 - 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...
Page 51 - Hear this, and tremble ! you who 'scape the laws. Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world, in credit, to his grave.
Page 243 - Before her dance; behind her crawl the Old! See thronging Millions to the Pagod run, And offer Country, Parent, Wife, or Son! Hear her black Trumpet thro' the Land proclaim, That "Not to be corrupted is the Shame.
Page 19 - d by ev'ry quill ; Fed with soft dedication all day long, Horace and he went hand in hand in song.
Page 234 - Seen him, uncumber'd with the Venal tribe, Smile without Art, and win without a Bribe. Would he oblige me ? let me only find, He does not think me what he thinks mankind.
Page 6 - They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.
Page 30 - Bestia's from the throne. 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. No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an oath, nor hazarded a lie.
Page 244 - Are what ten thousand envy and adore : All, all look up with reverential awe, At crimes that 'scape or triumph o'er the law ; While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry : Nothing is sacred now but villainy.
Page 157 - Besides, a fate attends on all I write, That when I aim at praise they say I bite. A vile encomium doubly ridicules : There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools. If true, a woful likeness ; and, if lies, ' Praise undeserv'd is scandal in disguise.