The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Band 3G. Bell, 1891 |
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Seite vi
... Grace the Duke of Buckingham . Lines in Evelyn's Book of Coins . Lines on Swift's Ancestors . To the Right . Hon . the Earl of Oxford Lines sung by Durastanti when she took leave of the English Stage On the Countess of Burlington ...
... Grace the Duke of Buckingham . Lines in Evelyn's Book of Coins . Lines on Swift's Ancestors . To the Right . Hon . the Earl of Oxford Lines sung by Durastanti when she took leave of the English Stage On the Countess of Burlington ...
Seite 6
... Grace , i.e. the Duke of Grafton . 2 George II . 3 Stephen Duck . See Imitations of Horace , Bk . ii , Ep . ii . 140 . Thou hast no fence , alas ! against his flail 6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . A Question by Anonymous Epigram (Great G—, &c ...
... Grace , i.e. the Duke of Grafton . 2 George II . 3 Stephen Duck . See Imitations of Horace , Bk . ii , Ep . ii . 140 . Thou hast no fence , alas ! against his flail 6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . A Question by Anonymous Epigram (Great G—, &c ...
Seite 11
... Grace's coach : There lies the bridge , and here's the clock , Observe the lion and the cock , The spacious court , the colonnade , And mark how wide the hall is made ! The chimneys are so well designed , They never smoke in any wind ...
... Grace's coach : There lies the bridge , and here's the clock , Observe the lion and the cock , The spacious court , the colonnade , And mark how wide the hall is made ! The chimneys are so well designed , They never smoke in any wind ...
Seite 18
... GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.2 USE , ' tis enough ; at length thy labour M ends , And thou shalt live , for Buckingham commends . Let crowds of critics now my verse assail , 1 Lady Winchilsea published a tragedy and a volume of poems ...
... GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.2 USE , ' tis enough ; at length thy labour M ends , And thou shalt live , for Buckingham commends . Let crowds of critics now my verse assail , 1 Lady Winchilsea published a tragedy and a volume of poems ...
Seite 32
... Grace and Chartres , 2 Men , some to business , some to pleasure take ; But every woman is at heart a rake . Frail , feverish sex ; their fit now chills , now burns : Atheism and superstition rule by turns ; And a mere heathen in her ...
... Grace and Chartres , 2 Men , some to business , some to pleasure take ; But every woman is at heart a rake . Frail , feverish sex ; their fit now chills , now burns : Atheism and superstition rule by turns ; And a mere heathen in her ...
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The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope, Volume 1 Alexander Pope,Alexander Dyce Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015 |
The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope: With a Memoir, Volume 1 Alexander Pope,Alexander Dyce Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2015 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
abused Addison Æneid Alluding Ambrose Philips ancient bard Bavius behold Bishop Book Booksellers called CARDELIA character Cibber Codrus Concanen Court cried Curl declared Dennis divine Dryden dull Dulness Dunce Dunciad Earl edition Epic EPIGRAM Epistle Essay on Criticism eyes fame famous fate fool genius gentle gentleman Gildon give Goddess grace hath head hear Hero Homer honour Horace Houyhnhnm Iliad Imitations John JOHN DENNIS John Dunton King labour Lady Laureate learned LEONARD WELSTED Letter LEWIS THEOBALD living Lord MIST'S JOURNAL Moral Muse Nature never o'er occasion Opera Ovid paper persons play poem Poet poetical Poetry Pope Pope's praise printed published Queen reader rhymes saith satire says Scriblerus Shakespear sleep SMILINDA sons soul sure thee Theobald thine things thou Throne translated verse Virg Virgil virtue Welsted whole words writ write youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 280 - Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine Lo, thy dread empire, Chaos ! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word : Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall, And universal darkness buries all.
Seite 248 - To ask, to guess, to know, as they commence,' As Fancy opens the quick springs of Sense, We ply the Memory, we load the brain, Bind rebel Wit, and double chain on chain, Confine the thought, to exercise the breath; And keep them in the pale of Words till death...
Seite 243 - Hibernian shore. 70 And now had Fame's posterior trumpet blown, And all the nations summon'd to the throne : The young, the old, who feel her inward sway, One instinct seizes, and transports away. None need a guide, by sure attraction led, And strong impulsive gravity of head : None want a place, for all their centre found, Hung to the goddess, and cohered around.
Seite 242 - But soon, ah soon, rebellion will commence, If music meanly borrows aid from sense : Strong in new arms, lo ! giant Handel stands, Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands ; To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes, And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums, Arrest him, empress ; or you sleep no more...
Seite 16 - And sensible soft melancholy. "Has she no faults then, (Envy says) Sir?" Yes, she has one, I must aver; When all the world conspires to praise her, The woman's deaf, and does not hear.
Seite 227 - Immortal Rich! how calm he sits at ease 'Mid snows of paper, and fierce hail of pease; And proud his Mistress' orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.
Seite 190 - To where Fleet-ditch with disemboguing streams Rolls the large tribute of dead dogs to Thames, The King of dykes ! than whom no sluice of mud With deeper sable blots the silver flood.
Seite 255 - We only furnish what he cannot use, Or wed to what he must divorce, a muse: Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, And petrify a genius to a dunce: Or set on metaphysic ground to prance, Show all his paces, not a step advance.
Seite 172 - O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
Seite 48 - tis true — this truth you lovers know — In vain my structures rise, my gardens grow, In vain fair Thames reflects the double scenes Of hanging mountains, and of sloping greens: Joy lives not here; to happier seats it flies, And only dwells where Wortley casts her eyes.