Other editions - View all
alfo alſo appears beauty body breath called character Compare couplet dead death Dryden edition Effay elegant Epiftle epigram equal excellent expreffion eyes fair fame fays fecond feems fhall fhould fight fimilar firſt flow fome former foul ftill fubject fuch give glory Gray hand happy head hear heav'n himſelf imitation kind king learned lefs letter light living Loft look Lord means Milton mind moft moſt Mufe muſt Nature never o'er obferve occafion once original paffage perhaps poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope probably reader remarks rife round Satire tears thee thefe theſe thing thofe thoſe thou thought tranflation trees verfe verfion verſe Virgil Virtue whofe whole winds wings writer written
Page 215 - Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name...
Page 265 - Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude ; Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i...
Page 226 - Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Page 279 - This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of Joy ; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Page 195 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun, That more than heaven pursue.
Page 51 - Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all. Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome, (The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!) No single parts unequally surprise, All comes united to th' admiring eyes; No monstrous height, or breadth or length appear; The whole at once is bold and regular.
Page 161 - Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n? Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er, To smart and agonize at ev'ry pore? Or quick effluvia darting thro' the brain, Die of a rose in aromatic pain?
Page 14 - Daughters; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases...
Page 286 - Near these a Nursery erects its head. Where queens are form'd, and future heroes bred ; Where unfledg'd actors learn to laugh and cry, Where infant punks their tender voices try, And little Maximins the gods defy.