The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last Corrections, Additions, and Improvements, as They Were Delivered to the Editor a Little Before His Death, Together with the Commentary and Notes of Mr. Warburton, Volume 4
A. Millar, J. and R. Tonson, C. Bathurst, R. Baldwin, W. Johnston, J. Richardson, B. Law, S. Crowder, T. Longman, T. Field, and T. Caslon, 1760 - English poetry
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abufe admire aetas againft Alluding amongft atque becaufe beft cafe caufe character Cicero Court divine Dunciad eafe eafy efteemed ev'n ev'ry expofe exprefled faid fame fatire feems feen fenfe ferve feveral fhould fibi firft fome fomething fool foul fpeaks fpecies fpirit Friend ftate ftill fuch fuit fuperior fure genius give grace himfelf honeft honour Horace Houfe imitation juft juftice King laft laugh leaft lefs Lord Lord Fanny ludicra Minifter moft Mufe muft myfelf never NOTES nunc o'er obferved Original pafs perfon Pindaric pleafe pleafure Poem Poet Poet's Poetry Pope Pow'r praife prefent profe purpofe quae quid Quintilian quod reafon reft ridicule rife rifu Satire SATIRE IV Southcot Tafle tafte thefe themfelves thing thofe thoufand thought thro tibi Truth verfe Virtue Whig whofe wife worfe write
Page 11 - 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? Or which must end me, a fool's wrath or love?
Page 30 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Page 12 - Three things another's modest wishes bound, My friendship, and a prologue, and ten pound. Pitholeon sends to me : ' You know his Grace, ' I want a patron ; ask him for a place.
Page 24 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Page 272 - If of Court life you knew the good. You would leave loneness. ' I said, 'Not alone My loneness is; but Spartan's fashion, To teach by painting drunkards, doth not last Now; Aretine's pictures have made few chaste; No more can princes...
Page 211 - This subtle Thief of life, this paltry Time, What will it leave me, if it snatch my rhyme? If ev'ry wheel of that unweary'd Mill, That turn'd ten thousand verses, now stands still?
Page 39 - As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or, at the ear of Eve, familiar toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad...
Page 14 - The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?) The Queen of Midas slept, and so may I. You think this cruel ? take it for a rule, No creature smarts so little as a fool. Let peals of laughter, Codrus ! round thee break, 85 Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack: Pit, box, and gall'ry in convulsions hurl'd, Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world. Who shames a Scribbler? break one cobweb thro...