An Essay on Man: Epistle II (Alexander Pope Poems)
I.Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;The proper study of mankind is man.Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle ...
I.Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;The proper study of mankind is man.Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle ...
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, ...
Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song,To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.The mossy fountains, and the sylvan shades,The dreams of ...
The fair Pomona flourish'd in his reign;Of all the Virgins of the sylvan train,None taught the trees a nobler race ...
Ye Lords and Commons, Men of Wit, And Pleasure about Town; Read this ere you translate one BitOf Books of ...
Semichorus.Oh Tyrant Love! hast thou possestThe prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,And Arts but soften us ...
Fain would my Muse the flow'ry Treasures sing,And humble glories of the youthful Spring;Where opening Roses breathing sweets diffuse,And soft ...
While Celia's Tears make sorrow bright,Proud Grief sits swelling in her eyes;The Sun, next those the fairest light,Thus from the ...
'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 ...
NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, "Most Women have no Characters at all." Matter too soft a ...
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 ...
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 ...
Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos; Sedjuvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis. (Martial, Epigrams 12.84) What dire offence from am'rous causes ...
Not with more glories, in th' etherial plain, The sun first rises o'er the purpled main, Than, issuing forth, the ...
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 ...
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