The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: Sappho to Phaon. Eloisa to Abelard. The temple of fame. January and May. The wife of Bath. The first book of Statius's Thebais. The fable of Dryope. Vertumnus and Pomona. Imitations [of English poets] Miscellanies. Epitaphs
againſt almoſt beauty beſt bleft breaſt cauſe charms Chaucer CHIG cloſe defcription defign Dryope Dunciad eaſe Epiftle Eteocles Ev'n ev'ry expreffion eyes facred faid fair fame fate fatire fays feems feen fhade fhall fhine fide figh fince firſt flain flame foft fome foul ftill fubject fuch fure grace h¿c heart heav'n himſelf houſe huſband IMITATIONS itſelf juſt Lady laft laſt lefs loft Lord lov'd MICHIG mihi moſt muſt night NOTES numbers nymph o'er obferves occafion Ovid paffage paffion Petrarch Phaon Phoebus Pindar pleaſe pleaſure poem poet Pope Pope's pow'r praiſe qu¿ reafon reft reſt rife riſe RSITY Sappho ſhade ſhe ſhould Sir William Wyndham SITY ſkies ſpeak ſpread ſtate Statius ſtill tears Thebes thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thouſand tibi tranflation Twas UNIV uſe verfe verſes Vertumnus WARTON whofe whoſe wife
Page 39 - Oh! happy state! when souls each other draw, When love is liberty, and nature law...
Page 78 - As when a shepherd of the Hebrid Isles*, Placed far amid the melancholy main, (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles ; Or that aerial beings sometimes deign To stand embodied, to our senses plain) Sees on the naked hill, or valley low, The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, A vast assembly moving to and fro: Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous show.
Page 39 - em all: Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove; No, make me mistress to the man I love; If there be yet another name more free, More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Page 53 - And smooth my passage to the realms of day; See my lips tremble, and my eyeballs roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Ah no — in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, Present the Cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Page 422 - Kneller, by Heaven, and not a master taught, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought ; Now for two ages, having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, Lies crown'd with Princes' honours, Poets' lays, Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise.
Page 44 - Sad proof how well a lover can obey ! Death, only death, can break the lasting chain ; And here ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain, Here all its frailties, all its flames resign, And wait, till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.
Page 41 - Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd; Give all thou canst — and let me dream the rest.
Page 100 - world, nor in broad rumour lies, ^But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, And...
Page 48 - I say : I stretch my empty arms ; it glides away. To dream once more I close my willing eyes ; Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise ! 240 Alas, no more! methinks we wand'ring go Thro...