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 11
... these ? He's gone , whom only she defir'd to please ! Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move , Still is there cause for Sappho ftill to love : So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom , gave to Venus all my life to come ; Or , while ...
... these ? He's gone , whom only she defir'd to please ! Cupid's light darts my tender bofom move , Still is there cause for Sappho ftill to love : So from my birth the Sifters fix'd my doom , gave to Venus all my life to come ; Or , while ...
Page 15
... these , Yet , while I blush , confess how much they please . But when , with day , the fweet delufions fly , 155 And all things wake to life and joy , but I , As if once more forfaken , I complain , And close my eyes to dream of you ...
... these , Yet , while I blush , confess how much they please . But when , with day , the fweet delufions fly , 155 And all things wake to life and joy , but I , As if once more forfaken , I complain , And close my eyes to dream of you ...
Page 21
... these rocks than to thy bofom prest ? 225 This breast which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Muses dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more inspire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , 230 ...
... these rocks than to thy bofom prest ? 225 This breast which once , in vain ! you lik'd fo well ; Where the Loves play'd , and where the Muses dwell . Alas ! the Mufes now no more inspire , Untun'd my lute , and filent is my lyre , 230 ...
Page 23
... these fond eyes restore thy welcome fails ? If you return --- ah why these long delays ? Poor Sappho dies while careless Phaon stays . O launch thy bark , nor fear the wat❜ry plain ; 250 Venus for thee shall smooth her native main ...
... these fond eyes restore thy welcome fails ? If you return --- ah why these long delays ? Poor Sappho dies while careless Phaon stays . O launch thy bark , nor fear the wat❜ry plain ; 250 Venus for thee shall smooth her native main ...
Page 29
... these lips in holy filence seal'd : Hide it , my heart , within that close disguise , Where mix'd with God's , his lov'd Idea lies : O write it not my hand --- the name appears Already written --- wash it out , my tears ! 5 10 In vain ...
... these lips in holy filence seal'd : Hide it , my heart , within that close disguise , Where mix'd with God's , his lov'd Idea lies : O write it not my hand --- the name appears Already written --- wash it out , my tears ! 5 10 In vain ...
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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?