The Works of Alexander Pope, 7. kötet

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J.F. Dove, St. John's Square, 1822

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302. oldal - The Muse, disgusted at an age and clime Barren of every glorious theme. In distant lands now waits a better time Producing subjects worthy fame : In happy climes where from the genial sun And virgin earth such scenes ensue, The force of art by nature seems outdone, And fancied beauties by the true : In happy climes the seat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules, Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools...
255. oldal - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
77. oldal - That changed through all, and yet in all the same. Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame, 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 ; Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns As the rapt seraph that adores and burns : To 'him no high, no low, no great, no small...
302. oldal - There shall be sung another golden age, The rise of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts. Not such as Europe breeds in her decay ; Such as she bred when fresh and young, When heav'nly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung.
77. oldal - That, changed through all, and yet in all the same; Great in the earth, as in the ethereal frame; 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!
246. oldal - I would flatter myself into a good opinion of my own way of living : Plutarch just now told me, that it is in human life as in a game at tables...
255. oldal - ... 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.
73. oldal - It is not enough that nothing offends the Ear, but a good Poet will adapt the very Sounds, as well as Words, to the things he treats of. So that there is (if one may express it so) a Style of Sound. As in describing a gliding Stream, the Numbers shou'd run easy and flowing; in describing a rough Torrent or Deluge, sonorous and swelling, and so of the rest.
265. oldal - outsteps the modesty of nature/' nor raises merriment or wonder by the violation of truth. His figures neither divert by distortion nor amaze by aggravation. He copies life with so much fidelity that he can be hardly...
328. oldal - Sir, I am much obliged to you : if you can dine upon a piece of beef together with a slice of pudding ?" — " Mr. Lintot, I do not say but Mr. Pope, if he would condescend to advise with men of learning." — " Sir, the pudding is upon the table, if you please to go in.

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