aetas ALEXANDER POPE atque becauſe Befides beſt cauſe Court Deûm Divine Dunciad eaſe EPISTLE ev'n ev'ry faid fame fatire fenfe fhall fhew fibi fing firſt fome fong fool foul fpirit ftill fuch fuit fure Genius grace himſelf honour Horace houſe imitation juft juſt King Knave laft laſt laugh Laws leaſt lefs Lord lov'd ludicra Minifters moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt neque nihil nunc o'er occafion Original Paffions paſs perfon Pindar pleas'd pleaſe pleaſure Poet poft Pope Pow'r praiſe prefent Pythagorea quae quam Quarto quid quod reaſon rhyme ridicule rife rifu Sappho Satire SATIRE IV ſay Senfe ſhall ſhould ſtate ſtill tafte tamen thefe themſelves theſe thing thofe thoſe thouſand thro tibi Truth uſe verfe verſe Virtue Whig whofe whoſe wife worfe worſe writ write
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 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 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 14 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Page 4 - 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 13 - 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 167 - Bright through the rubbish of some hundred years ; Command old words, that long have slept, to wake, Words that wise Bacon or...
Page 6 - A virgin tragedy, an orphan muse.' If I dislike it, 'Furies, death and rage!' If I approve, 'Commend it to the stage.
Page 20 - Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence...