The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last Corrections, Additions, and Improvements, as They Were Delivered to the Editor a Little Before His Death, Together with the Commentary and Notes of Mr. Warburton, 2. köideA. Millar, J. and R. Tonson, C. Bathurst, R. Baldwin, W. Johnston, J. Richardson, B. Law, S. Crowder, T. Longman, T. Field, and T. Caslon, 1760 |
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Page 3
... hand ? Must then her name the wretched writer prove , To thy remembrance loft , as to thy love ? Ask not the cause that I new numbers chuse , 5 The Lute neglected , and the Lyric muse ; Love taught my tears in fadder notes to flow , And ...
... hand ? Must then her name the wretched writer prove , To thy remembrance loft , as to thy love ? Ask not the cause that I new numbers chuse , 5 The Lute neglected , and the Lyric muse ; Love taught my tears in fadder notes to flow , And ...
Page 9
... hand the sparkling di'monds glow ; No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffuse The coftly sweetness of Arabian dews , Nor braids of gold the varied treffes bind , 85 That fly disorder'd with the wanton wind ; Cui colar infelix ? aut cui ...
... hand the sparkling di'monds glow ; No more my locks in ringlets curl'd diffuse The coftly sweetness of Arabian dews , Nor braids of gold the varied treffes bind , 85 That fly disorder'd with the wanton wind ; Cui colar infelix ? aut cui ...
Page 23
... hands fhall touch the trembling ftring : My Phaon's fled , and I thofe arts refign 235 ( Wretch that I am , to call that Phaon mine ! ) Return , fair youth , return , and bring along Joy to my foul , and vigour to my song : Abfent from ...
... hands fhall touch the trembling ftring : My Phaon's fled , and I thofe arts refign 235 ( Wretch that I am , to call that Phaon mine ! ) Return , fair youth , return , and bring along Joy to my foul , and vigour to my song : Abfent from ...
Page 26
... hands of Eloifa . This awakening all her tender- nefs , occafioned those celebrated letters ( out of which the following is partly extracted ) which give fo lively a picture of the ftruggles of grace and nature , vir- tue and paffion ...
... hands of Eloifa . This awakening all her tender- nefs , occafioned those celebrated letters ( out of which the following is partly extracted ) which give fo lively a picture of the ftruggles of grace and nature , vir- tue and paffion ...
Page 29
... 'd Idea lies : O write it not my hand --- the name appears Already written --- wash it out , my tears ! 5 10 In vain loft Eloïfa weeps and prays , 15 Her ( 29 ) SAPPHO to PHAON, an Epiftle from Ovid ELOISA to ABELARD, an Epistle.
... 'd Idea lies : O write it not my hand --- the name appears Already written --- wash it out , my tears ! 5 10 In vain loft Eloïfa weeps and prays , 15 Her ( 29 ) SAPPHO to PHAON, an Epiftle from Ovid ELOISA to ABELARD, an Epistle.
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The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last ... Alexander Pope,William Warburton No preview available - 2016 |
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Page 31 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine. Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away; And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Page 41 - Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign, Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Page 33 - Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be) And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Page 44 - If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And...
Page 34 - 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 29 - IN these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heavenly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns, What means this tumult in a vestal's veins ? Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat ? Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat ? Yet, yet I love ! — From Abelard it came, And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.
Page 36 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Page 43 - Cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die. Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloi'sa see ! It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
Page 65 - The figur'd games of Greece the column grace, Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run ; The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone ; The champions in distorted postures threat ; And all appear'd irregularly great. Here happy Horace tun'd th...
Page 32 - Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies. Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame, August her deed, and sacred be her fame; Before true passion all those views remove, Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?