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acquaintance Addison addressed afterwards appears Arbuthnot beauty believe Blount Bolingbroke called carried character collection copy correct correspondence Court Criticism Curll death desire died Dunciad early edition effect England Epistle Essay expressed garden gave give given hand Hill Homer honour hope imitation interest kind known Lady Mary leave less letters lines lived look Lord manner Martha Blount mean mentioned mind moral nature never notes original Oxford passed person pieces poem poet poet's poetical poetry Pope Pope's present printed probably publication published reason received satire says seems sent side spirit Swift taste tell things thought told took town translation Twickenham verses volume Warburton whole wish writing written wrote
Página 101 - Blest with each talent, and each art to please, And born to write, converse, and live with ease; Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne...
Página 173 - I have ever hated all nations, professions, and communities; and all my love is towards individuals. For instance, I hate the tribe of lawyers; but I love Counsellor Such-a-one, and Judge Such-a-one. It is so with physicians. I will not speak of my own trade, soldiers, English, Scotch, French, and the rest. But principally I hate and detest that animal called man, although I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth.
Página 3 - Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name : Go, search it there, where to be born and die, Of rich and poor makes all the history ; Enough, that Virtue fill'd the space between ; Prov'd by the ends of being, to have been.
Página 101 - Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike...
Página 214 - Here shift the scene, to represent How those I love, my death lament. Poor Pope will grieve a month; and Gay A week ; and Arbuthnot a day. St John himself will scarce forbear, To bite his pen, and drop a tear. The rest will give a shrug and cry I'm sorry; but we all must die.
Página 198 - This gave Mr. Pope the thought that he had now some opportunity of doing good, by detecting and dragging into light these common enemies of mankind; since, to invalidate this universal slander, it sufficed to show what contemptible men were the authors of it. He was not without hopes, that by...
Página 260 - ... you have made my system as clear as I ought to have done, and could not. It is indeed the same system as mine, but illustrated with a ray of your own, as they say our natural body is the same still when it is glorified.
Página 116 - I'll think as hard as I can. Silence ensued for a full hour ; after which Mr. Lintot lugged the reins, stopped short, and broke out, " Well, Sir, how far have you gone ?" I answered, Seven miles. " Z ds, Sir," said Lintot, " I thought you had done seven stanzas.
Página 34 - tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour; 1740 For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper," To have, when the original is dust, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.
Página 68 - And lonely woodcocks haunt the watery glade. He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye; Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamorous lapwings feel the leaden death: Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare, They fall, and leave their little lives in air.