The works of Alexander Pope. With his last corrections, additions, and improvements; together with all his notes: pr. verbatim from the octavo ed. of mr. Warburton, 2. köide
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The Works of Alexander Pope. with His Last Corrections, Additions, and ...
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Page 31 - 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 31 - 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 28 - 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?
Page 37 - 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 drink the...
Page 26 - Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.
Page 36 - Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God! No, fly me, fly me, far as Pole from Pole; Rise Alps between us!
Page 30 - And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day. But now no face divine contentment wears, 'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears. See how the force of others...
Page 26 - Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains : Ye rugged rocks, which holy knees have worn ; Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn...
Page 36 - 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 36 - And more than Echoes talk along the walls. Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around, From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound. 'Come, sister, come!' (it said, or seem'd to say) 'Thy place is here, sad sister, come away! 310 Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd, Love's victim then, tho...