Miscellany poems. By mr. Pope (By several hands).

Front Cover

From inside the book

Selected pages

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 197 - To find if books, or swains, report it right (For yet by swains alone the world he knew...
Page 204 - The Maker justly claims that world he made, In this the right of Providence is laid; Its sacred majesty through all depends On using second means to work his ends...
Page 198 - And hail, my son," the reverend sire replied ; Words follow'd words, from question answer flow'd, And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road ; Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part, While in their age they differ, join in heart : Thus stands an aged elm in ivy bound, Thus youthful ivy clasps an elm around.
Page 205 - With heaping coals of fire upon its head ; In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow, And, loose from dross, the silver...
Page 203 - His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet ; Fair rounds of radiant points...
Page 200 - Unkind and griping, caus'da desert there. As near the miser's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rising gusts with sudden fury blew ; The nimble lightning mix'd with showers began, And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran.
Page 196 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
Page 219 - SONG. WHEN thy beauty appears, In its graces and airs, All bright as an angel new dropt from the sky ; At distance I gaze, and am aw'd by my fears, So strangely you dazzle my eye ! But when without art, Your kind thoughts you impart, When your love runs in blushes through every vein; When it darts from your eyes, when it pants in your heart, Then I know you're a woman again. There's a passion and pride In our sex...
Page 198 - The table groans with costly piles of food, And all Is more than hospitably good. Then, led to rest, the day's long toil they drown, Deep sunk in sleep, and silk, and heaps of down. At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day Along the wide canals the zephyrs play ; Fresh o'er the gay parterres the breezes creep.
Page 210 - For which, an eloquence, that aims to vex, With native tropes of anger, arms the sex.

Bibliographic information