The Temple of Fame (Alexander Pope Poems)
In that soft season, when descending show'rsCall forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;When op'ning buds salute the welcome ...
In that soft season, when descending show'rsCall forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;When op'ning buds salute the welcome ...
High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shoneHenley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,Or that where on her Curlls the ...
Thy forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats,At once the Monarch's and the Muse's seats,Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan maids!Unlock ...
Say, lovely youth, that dost my heart command,Can Phaon's eyes forget his Sappho's hand?Must then her name the wretched writer ...
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and ...
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd, On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd. Him close she curtains round with ...
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, ...
Cardelia. Smilinda. Cardelia. The Basset-Table spread, the Tallier come;Why stays Smilinda in the Dressing-Room?Rise, pensive Nymph, the Tallier waits for ...
She said, and for her lost Calanthis sighs,When the fair Consort of her son replies."Since you a servant's ravish'd form ...
Lycidas. Thyrsis, the music of that murm'ring spring,Is not so mournful as the strains you sing.Nor rivers winding thro' the ...
I. Flutt'ring spread thy purple Pinions,Gentle Cupid, o'er my Heart;I a Slave in thy Dominions;Nature must give Way to Art.II.Mild ...
Tho' Artemisia talks, by fits, Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke;Yet in some things methinks she fails,'Twere ...
Goddess of woods, tremendous in the chase,To mountain wolves and all the savage race,Wide o'er the aerial vault extend thy ...
Muse, 'tis enough: at length thy labour ends,And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends.Let Crowds and Critics now my verse ...
Celia, we know, is sixty-five,Yet Celia's face is seventeen;Thus winter in her breast must live,While summer in her face is ...
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star ...
The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let ...
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state: From brutes what ...
Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II.i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain The balanc'd world, and open ...
In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho's we admire no more: Fate doom'd the Fall ...
Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing -- This ...
Not with more glories, in th' etherial plain, The sun first rises o'er the purpled main, Than, issuing forth, the ...
Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs, Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow'rs, There stands a ...
But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd, And secret passions labour'd in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd ...
She said: the pitying audience melt in tears, But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's ears. In vain Thalestris ...
Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures: Et sermone opus est modo tristi, saepe ...
In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in ...
Father of all! In every age, In ev'ry clime ador'd, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or ...
'Tis hard to say, if greater Want of Skill Appear in Writing or in Judging ill, But, of the two, ...
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride ...
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