The poetical works of Alexander Pope: with his last corrections, additions and improvements, Volume 2 (Google eBook)

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Printed by T. & G. Palmer, 1804 - 754 pages
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Page 111 - And value books, as women men, for dress: Their praise is still, The style is excellent; The sense, they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found.
Page 113 - The sound must seem an echo to the sense : Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar : When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow ; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Page 108 - While from the bounded level of our mind, Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind; But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise, New distant scenes of endless science rise!
Page 99 - Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss ; A fool might once himself alone expose ; Now one in verse makes many more in prose. Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Page 112 - Though oft the ear the open vowels tire; While expletives their feeble aid do join; And ten low words oft creep in one dull line, While they ring round the same unvaried chimes, With sure returns of still expected rhymes, Where'er you find "the cooling western breeze...
Page 94 - Yet not to earth's contracted span Thy goodness let me bound, Or think Thee Lord alone of man. When thousand worlds are round. Let not this weak, unknowing hand Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land On each I judge Thy foe.
Page 111 - Its gaudy colours spreads on every place ; The face of nature we no more survey, All glares alike, without distinction gay ; But true expression, like th' unchanging sun, Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon ; It gilds all objects, but it alters none.
Page 118 - Some bright idea of the master's mind, Where a new world leaps out at his command, And ready Nature waits upon his hand; When the ripe colours soften and unite, And sweetly melt into just shade and light; When mellowing years their full perfection give, And each bold figure just begins to live, The treacherous colours the fair art betray, And all the bright creation fades away!
Page 25 - And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies. Not louder shrieks to pitying heav'n are cast, When husbands, or when lap-dogs breathe their last ; Or when rich China vessels fall'n from high, In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie ! 160 " Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine...
Page 19 - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.

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