The Works of Alexander Pope: Moral essays (Google eBook)

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A. Millar [and others], 1757 - English literature
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Page 54 - Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ? Where grows ? where grows it not ? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil...
Page 72 - Must rise from Individual to the Whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake; The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace; His country next; and next all human race; Wide and more wide, th...
Page 15 - Were we to press, inferior might on ours; Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd: From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike. And, if each system in gradation roll Alike essential to th' amazing whole, The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall.
Page 57 - Know, all the good that individuals find, Or God and nature meant to mere mankind, Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words, health, peace, and competence But health consists with temperance alone ; And peace, oh virtue ! peace is all thy own.
Page 16 - To serve mere engines to the ruling mind ? Just as absurd for any part to claim To be another in this...
Page 56 - But mutual wants this happiness increase, All nature's difference keeps all nature's peace. Condition, circumstance, is not the thing, Bliss is the same in subject or in king; In who obtain defence, or who defend, In him who is, or him who finds a friend : Heaven breathes through every member of the whole One common blessing as one common soul.
Page 4 - AWAKE, my St. John ! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man ; A mighty maze ! but not without a plan ; A wild where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot, Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit.
Page 7 - Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below ? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Page 5 - Say first, of God above, or man below, What can we reason, but from what we know ? Of man, what see we but his station here, From which to reason, or to which refer ? Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known, "Tis ours to trace him only in our own.
Page 40 - Is it for thee the lark ascends and sings? Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings. Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat ? Loves of his own and raptures swell the note.