The Works of the English Poets: PopeH. Hughs, 1779 |
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aetas againſt Aſk atque Balaam beſt Biſhop bleffing bleft bluſh breaſt Cæfar cauſe charms Court Dæmon eafe eaſe EPISTLE ev'n eyes fame fate fave fhall fhould fibi fince fing firſt foft Folly fome fool foul ftill ftrong fuch fure grace Happineſs heart Heaven himſelf honeft honour Houſe juft juſt King Knave laft laſt learn'd lefs leſs loft Lord lov'd ludicra mankind moſt Mufe muft Muſe muſt Nature ne'er numbers nunc o'er Paffion paſs paſt pleas'd pleaſe Pleaſure Poet praiſe pride purſue quae quid quod Reaſon reft reſt rife riſe Sappho Satire ſay ſcarce ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſmile ſome ſpread ſtate ſtill Taſte thee thefe themſelves theſe things thofe thoſe thou thouſand tibi truſt Truth Twas uſe VARIATION Verfe verſe Vice Virtue whofe whoſe wife worfe
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41. oldal - 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; Born but to die, and...
29. oldal - The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; But vindicate the ways of God to man.
39. oldal - Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees : Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent...
77. oldal - Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Swede ; The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find Or make an enemy of all mankind!
50. oldal - Fools ! who from hence into the notion fall, That vice or virtue there is none at all. If white and black blend, soften, and unite A thousand ways, is there no black or white?
156. oldal - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
60. oldal - Nor think, in Nature's state they blindly trod; The state of Nature was the reign of God: Self-love and social at her birth began, Union the bond of all things, and of man.
64. oldal - For nature knew no right divine in men ; No ill could fear in God, and understood A...
69. oldal - Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ? • Where grows ? — where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil...
56. oldal - Who for thy table feeds the wanton fawn, For him as kindly spread the flow'ry lawn : Is it for thee the lark ascends and sings? Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings.