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Addison afterwards ALEXANDER POPE ancient appear Atrides bard beauties Blest Bolingbroke bright censure character Cibber courser criticism crown'd Cynthus delight Dryden Dunciad Eclogues edition Epistle epitaph Essay Essay on Criticism ev'n ev'ry excellence eyes fair fame favour fire flame flow'rs forest friendship genius glory grace groves heart heav'n Homer honour Iliad imitation immortal labour lays learning letters living Lord Lord Bolingbroke Lord Halifax Lord Lansdown lyre mankind mind muse muse's nature never numbers o'er once passion pastoral perhaps plain poem poet poetry Pope Pope's pow'r praise pride printed publick published racter rage readers resound rise sacred Satire Satire's scene seems sense shade shepherds shew shine sing skies soft strains swains Swift thee Theocritus things thou thought tion translation trembling truth Twickenham verse Virgil virtue virtue's Warburton write written
Page 128 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire.
Page 143 - While from the bounded level of our mind Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind : But more...
Page xlvii - Then he instructed a young nobleman, that the best poet in England was Mr. Pope (a Papist), who had begun a translation of Homer into English verse, for which he must have them all subscribe. "For," says he, "the author shall not begin to print till I have a thousand guineas for him.
Page cx - Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation, and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope.
Page 135 - Ten Censure wrong for one who Writes amiss ; A Fool might once himself alone expose, Now One in Verse makes many more in Prose.
Page lxxx - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Page 143 - A little learning is a dangerous thing ; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again.
Page 128 - Happy the man. whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air. In his own ground Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire. Whose trees in summer yield him shade. In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day. Sound sleep by night; study and ease. Together mixt: sweet recreation, And innocence, which most does please With meditation.
Page cxviii - 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.