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Abelard Addison Adrastus ALEXANDER POPE ancient Argos arms Balaam bear beauty Behold Belinda bless'd blest bliss breast breath bright charms critics Cynthus d¿mon death dread Dryden earth Eteocles eternal Eurydice ev'n eyes fair fame fate fix'd flame fools fury genius give glory glow gods grace groves hair happiness hate heart Heav'n Homer honour Iliad Jove kind king knave learn'd live lord lov'd mankind mind mournful Muse nature nature's ne'er numbers nymph o'er once passion Phaon Phoebus plain pleas'd pleasure poet Polynices Pope Pope's pow'r praise pray'r pride rage reason reign resound rise rules sacred Sappho self-love sense shade shine sighs sing Sir Richard Steele skies soul sylphs taste taught tears Thalestris Theban Thebes thee Theocritus thine things thou trembling Tydeus virtue winds wings wise wretched youth
Page 40 - 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 confin'd from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Page 94 - And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom The fate of Louis and the fall of Rome. Then cease, bright nymph ! to mourn thy ravish'd hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere ! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the Lock you lost. For, after all. the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die ; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust ; This Lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame,...
Page 85 - The little engine on his fingers' ends; This just behind Belinda's neck he spread, As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head. Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair, A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair; And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear; Thrice she look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near.
Page 74 - And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast : There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow, There the first roses of the year shall blow ; While angels with their silver wings o'ershade The ground, now sacred by thy relics made.
Page 57 - Go, from the creatures thy instructions take: Learn from the birds what food the thickets yield; Learn from the beasts the physic of the field; Thy arts of building from the bee receive; Learn of the mole to plough, the worm to weave; Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.
Page 195 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years, slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night ; study and ease Together mix'd, sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Page 154 - Who builds a church to God, and not to fame, Will never mark the marble with his name : Go, search it there, where to be born and die, Of rich and poor makes all the history ; Enough that virtue fill'd the space between, Prov'd by the ends of being to have been.
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.
Page 45 - Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state, A Being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest, In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast; In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer...