The Works of the English Poets: Pope
H. Hughs, 1779 - English poetry
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bear Beauty better bleft Book charms Court death divine EPISTLE ev'n eyes fair Faith fall fame fate Father fear fhall fire firſt Folly fome fool forms foul ftill fuch give Gold grace grow half hand hate head hear heart Heaven himſelf honour juft juſt keep kind King Knave land laws learned leave live look Lord mankind mean mind MORAL muſt Nature never o'er once Paffion pleaſe pleaſure Poet poor Power praiſe pride proud quid quod Reaſon rich rife round rules Satire ſhall ſtate ſtill tell thee theſe things thofe thoſe thou thought Town true Truth turn VARIATION Vice Virtue weak whofe whole wife write
Page 41 - With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between, in doubt to act or rest; In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast; In doubt his mind or body to prefer; Born but to die, and...
Page 29 - The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; But vindicate the ways of God to man.
Page 39 - Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees : Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
Page 77 - Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Swede ; The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find Or make an enemy of all mankind!
Page 50 - Fools ! who from hence into the notion fall, That vice or virtue there is none at all. If white and black blend, soften, and unite A thousand ways, is there no black or white?
Page 156 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Page 60 - Nor think, in Nature's state they blindly trod; The state of Nature was the reign of God: Self-love and social at her birth began, Union the bond of all things, and of man.
Page 64 - For nature knew no right divine in men ; No ill could fear in God, and understood A...
Page 69 - Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ? • Where grows ? — where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil...
Page 56 - Who for thy table feeds the wanton fawn, For him as kindly spread the flow'ry lawn : Is it for thee the lark ascends and sings? Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings.