The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections, Additions and Improvements, Volume 1
T. & G. Palmer, 1804 - 754 pages
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Table des matières
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections ..., Volume 1
Affichage du livre entier - 1796
The poetical works of Alexander Pope. With his last corrections, additions ...
Affichage du livre entier - 1807
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With His Last Corrections, Additions ...
Affichage du livre entier - 1812
Expressions et termes fréquents
Addison ancient appear bear beauty breast breath bright charms critics death delight Dryden early earth eternal Ev'n ev'ry excellent eyes fair fall fame fate fields fire flames flocks flood flow flow'rs forests genius give grace green groves hand head hear heart hills Homer hope inspire Italy kind lays learned less light lines live lost mountains mournful move Muses nature never numbers o'er once opinion pastoral peace plains poem poet poetry Pope Pope's praise rest rise rocks roll sacred scene seas sense shade shepherds shine shore silver sing skies soft soul sound spread spring stand strains streams taught tears tender thee thine things thou thought translation trees trembling true verses Virgil winds write youth
Page 21 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer: Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike ; Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike...
Page 21 - Dreading ev'n 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 ev'ry 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?
Page 176 - 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. So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame.
Page 21 - 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...
Page 174 - Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, The glorious fault of angels and of gods; Thence to their images on earth it flows, And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows.
Page 122 - The swain in barren deserts with surprise Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ; And starts amidst the thirsty wilds to hear New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
Page 17 - How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Page 121 - Oh spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born ! See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring, With all the incense of the breathing spring...
Page 123 - The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead, And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead : The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
Page 164 - Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirit bade the waters flow; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n, And mild as op'ning gleams of promis'd heav'n.