The poetical works of Alexander Pope, with a life, by A. Dyce, 1. köide1863 |
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Page cxvii
... breast which makes the physi- cians of opinion that a strong vomit would kill me . I have never taken one , nor had a natural motion that way in fifteen years . · Well then , I must submit to live at the distance MEMOIR OF POPE . cxvii.
... breast which makes the physi- cians of opinion that a strong vomit would kill me . I have never taken one , nor had a natural motion that way in fifteen years . · Well then , I must submit to live at the distance MEMOIR OF POPE . cxvii.
Page cxxviii
... breast . He now felt un- equal to any new poetical attempts , and chiefly occupied himself in preparing , with the assistance of Warburton , a corrected edition of his works . In a letter to that faithful friend ( printed without date ...
... breast . He now felt un- equal to any new poetical attempts , and chiefly occupied himself in preparing , with the assistance of Warburton , a corrected edition of his works . In a letter to that faithful friend ( printed without date ...
Page cxxx
... Deity in the flattering hopes he has per- mitted nature to indulge men , even amidst the sense of the desperateness of their condition . 1 Life of Pope , p . 474 . A dropsy in the breast , which is my case CXXX MEMOIR OF POPE .
... Deity in the flattering hopes he has per- mitted nature to indulge men , even amidst the sense of the desperateness of their condition . 1 Life of Pope , p . 474 . A dropsy in the breast , which is my case CXXX MEMOIR OF POPE .
Page cxxxi
Alexander Pope Alexander Dyce. A dropsy in the breast , which is my case , I know to be incurable , ' said he one day to the Bishop of Gloucester , and yet I frequently catch myself in indulging , before I am aware , with this pleasing ...
Alexander Pope Alexander Dyce. A dropsy in the breast , which is my case , I know to be incurable , ' said he one day to the Bishop of Gloucester , and yet I frequently catch myself in indulging , before I am aware , with this pleasing ...
Page 28
... breast the serpent Love abides . Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew , But your Alexis knows no sweets but you . O deign to visit our forsaken seats , The mossy fountains , and the green retreats ! Where'er you walk , cool gales ...
... breast the serpent Love abides . Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew , But your Alexis knows no sweets but you . O deign to visit our forsaken seats , The mossy fountains , and the green retreats ! Where'er you walk , cool gales ...
Other editions - View all
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, with a Life, by A. Dyce Alexander Dyce,Alexander Pope No preview available - 2016 |
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, with a Life, by A. Dyce Alexander Dyce,Alexander Pope No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Addison Adrastus ALEXANDER POPE appears Arbuthnot bear beauty Belinda breast bright Brutus charms crown'd Curll death Dryope Dunciad E'en edition Edmund Curll Eloisa Eloisa to Abelard Epistle Essay Eteocles eyes fair fame fate flames flowers Forest friendship fury give gods grace groves hair Halifax hand heart Heaven Homer honour Iliad IMITATIONS John Searle Jove kings Lady letter Lintot Lock Lord Bolingbroke Lord Halifax maid Martha Blount mournful Muses never night numbers nymph o'er Pastorals Phoebus plain poem poet poetry Pope Pope's printed published rage reign rise Roscoe sacred Sappho Satires says shades shining sighs sing Singer Sir Richard Steele skies soul Spence Spence's Anecdotes spring swains Swift sylphs sylvan tears Thalestris Thebes thee things thou thought throne tion translation trembling Twickenham verses Vertumnus volume Warburton William Trumbull winds write Wycherley youth
Popular passages
Page 82 - Hampton takes its name. Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom Of foreign tyrants, and of nymphs at home : Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey, Dost sometimes counsel take — and sometimes tea.
Page lvii - Peace to all such! But were there One whose fires True Genius kindles and fair Fame inspires; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise; Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer...
Page lvii - 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 all abroad?
Page 47 - 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 78 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.
Page 44 - And hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound. As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, Seeks freshest pasture and the purest air ; Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs, By day o'ersees them, and by night protects ; The tender lambs he raises in his arms, Feeds from his hand and in his bosom warms ; Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage, The promised father of the future age.
Page 45 - No more shall nation against nation rise, Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,' Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o'er ; The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more ; But useless lances into scythes shall bend, And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end.
Page 117 - For others good, or melt at others woe. What can atone (oh ever-injur'd shade !) Thy fate unpity'd, and thy rites unpaid ? No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear Pleas'd thy pale ghost, or grac'd thy mournful bier : By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd, By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd, By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd! What tho' no friends in sable weeds appear.
Page 86 - The berries crackle, and the mill turns round : On shining altars of Japan they raise The silver lamp ; the fiery spirits blaze : From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, While China's earth receives the smoking tide : At once they gratify their scent and taste, And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.
Page 79 - But chiefly Love — to Love an altar built, Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves, And all the trophies of his former loves ; With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, And breathes three am'rous sighs to raise the fire.