The poetical works of Alexander PopeCrissy & Markley., 1865 |
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Page xv
... less studied than they have been ever since . His deficien- cies as an editor were exposed by Theobald , on whom Pope took ample vengeance in the Dunciad . But he gained little fame by his editorial work , and , considering the labour ...
... less studied than they have been ever since . His deficien- cies as an editor were exposed by Theobald , on whom Pope took ample vengeance in the Dunciad . But he gained little fame by his editorial work , and , considering the labour ...
Page xvii
... less infallibility than his namesake at Rome . " Such were the amenities of literature in the early part of the eighteenth century , such the compliments that passed between authors who had lived and flourished in the days of Anne , the ...
... less infallibility than his namesake at Rome . " Such were the amenities of literature in the early part of the eighteenth century , such the compliments that passed between authors who had lived and flourished in the days of Anne , the ...
Page xx
... less real , when manners usurp the place of morals , when rakes and dandies inherit the names , and sit in the halls of patriots of austere virtue and historic renown . Then , by an inevitable law , the satirist comes on the stage , and ...
... less real , when manners usurp the place of morals , when rakes and dandies inherit the names , and sit in the halls of patriots of austere virtue and historic renown . Then , by an inevitable law , the satirist comes on the stage , and ...
Page xxi
... less interesting , less natural , in a limited sense of the term , still his pictures are true and masterly , and represent no mere figment of his brain , but what came daily under his observa- tion . We may censure his choice of a ...
... less interesting , less natural , in a limited sense of the term , still his pictures are true and masterly , and represent no mere figment of his brain , but what came daily under his observa- tion . We may censure his choice of a ...
Page 3
... less concerned about fame than I durst declare till this occasion , when methinks I should find more credit than I could heretofore : since my writings have had their fate already , and it is too late to think of prepossessing the ...
... less concerned about fame than I durst declare till this occasion , when methinks I should find more credit than I could heretofore : since my writings have had their fate already , and it is too late to think of prepossessing the ...
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Common terms and phrases
admire ¯neid ancient bard beauty behold blest breast bright Charles Gildon charms Cibber court cried critics Dennis divine dull Dulness dunce Dunciad e'er eclogue epic Essay on Criticism eyes fair fame fate fire flames fools genius gentle give glory goddess gods grace hand happy hath head heart Heaven hero Homer honour Iliad John Dennis kings learn'd learned Leonard Welsted LEWIS THEOBALD live lord Matthew Concanen mind muse nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er once passion pastoral plain pleased poem poet poetry Pope praise pride queen rage reign rhyme rise round sacred Sappho satire sense shade shew shine sighs sing skies soft soul sylphs tears Thalestris thee Theocritus thine things thou thought throne trembling true Twas verse Virgil virtue wings words write youth
Popular passages
Page 203 - The world recedes: it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy Victory? O Death! where is thy Sting.
Page 320 - Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers load, On wings of winds came flying...
Page 16 - See, through this air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high, progressive life may go ! Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! Vast chain of being ! which from God began, Natures ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach ; from infinite to thee, From thee to nothing.
Page 18 - Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confused; Still by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd: The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
Page 22 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Page 13 - Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar, Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore. What future bliss he gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy and confined, from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Page 202 - Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie.
Page 197 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives ; To enjoy is to obey.
Page 195 - Rise, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rise ! Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes ! See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies...
Page 197 - FATHER of all ! in every age, In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord ! Thou great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense confined To know but this, that Thou art good, And that myself am blind ; Yet gave me, in this dark estate, To see the good from ill ; And binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will. What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue.