The poetical works of Alexander Pope: with his last corrections, additions and improvements, Volume 5 (Google eBook)

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Printed by T. & G. Palmer, 1804 - 754 pages
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Page 12 - Peace to all such! but were there one whose fires True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ; Blest with each talent and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Page 13 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike...
Page 18 - A cherub's face, a reptile all the rest ; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust, Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Page 15 - Oh let me live my own, and die so too ! (To live and die is all I have to do :; Maintain a poet's dignity and ease, And see what friends, and read what books I please ; Above a patron, tho' I condescend Sometimes to call a minister my friend.
Page 6 - And curses wit, and poetry, and Pope. Friend to my life! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?
Page 17 - Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings, This painted child of dirt, that stinks and stings; Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys, Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys : So well-bred spaniels civilly delight In mumbling of the game they dare not bite. Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way.
Page 32 - There my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place: There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul...
Page 8 - Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door, Sir, let me see your works and you no more. *Tis sung, when Midas...
Page 5 - A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer, A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross!
Page 11 - Soft were my numbers ; who could take offence While pure description held the place of sense ? Like gentle Fanny's was my flow'ry theme, A painted mistress, or a purling stream.

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