The Works of Alexander Pope: Satires, &c |
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Page 14
... And fit attentive to his own applaufe ; While Wits and Templars ev'ry fentence raise , And wonder with a foolish face of praise- Who but muft laugh , if fuch a man there be ? Who would not weep , if ATTICUS were he ! VARIATIONS .
... And fit attentive to his own applaufe ; While Wits and Templars ev'ry fentence raise , And wonder with a foolish face of praise- Who but muft laugh , if fuch a man there be ? Who would not weep , if ATTICUS were he ! VARIATIONS .
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admire atque Author bear beauty better Book Character Court divine equal ev'n ev'ry eyes fall fame father fatire fear fome fool force foul ftill fuch Genius give Gold grace grave half head heart himſelf honour Horace imitation juſt keep King land laſt laugh Laws learned light live Lord mean mind moſt muſt Nature never nunc once Original Poet poor praiſe proud quae quam Quid quis quod rhyme rich ridicule rule Satire ſhall ſhould ſtate ſtill tell theſe thing thoſe thought thro tibi town true Truth turn uſe verfe verſe Vice Virtue whofe whole wife write
Popular passages
Page 21 - A Cherub's face, a reptile all the rest; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust; Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Page 12 - 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 17 - Oh let me live my own, and die so too ! (To live and die is all I have to do :) Maintain a poet's dignity and ease, And see what friends, and read what books I please ; Above a patron, tho' I condescend Sometimes to call a minister my friend.
Page 49 - 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 45 - Slander or Poison dread from Delia's rage, Hard words or hanging, if your Judge be Page.
Page 17 - And those they left me; for they left me Gay; Left me to see neglected genius bloom, Neglected die, and 'tell it on his tomb: Of all thy blameless...
Page 27 - 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 a while one parent from the sky ! On cares like these, if length of days attend, May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my friend!
Page 182 - Sir, though (I thank God for it) I do hate Perfectly all this town, yet there's one state In all ill things so excellently best, That hate towards them breeds pity towards the rest.
Page 6 - Furies, death and rage!" If I approve, "Commend it to the stage.
Page 24 - If on a pillory, or near a throne, He gain his prince's ear, or lose his own. Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit...