The works of Alexander Pope. With his last corrections, additions, and improvements; together with all his notes: pr. verbatim from the octavo ed. of mr. Warburton, Volume 6


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Page 216 - A poet, blest beyond the poet's fate, Whom Heaven kept sacred from the Proud and Great : Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace. Calmly he look'd on either life ; and here Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ; From Nature's temperate feast rose satisfied, Thank'd Heaven that he had liv'd, and that he died.
Page 75 - Night primaeval and of Chaos old ! Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay, And all its varying rainbows die away. Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires. As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sick'ning stars fade off th' ethereal plain ; As Argus
Page 84 - ... what contemptible men were the authors of it. He was not without hopes that, by...
Page 151 - Tis (let me see) three years and more (October next, it will be four) Since Harley bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble friend; Would take me in his coach to chat, And question me of this and that; As 'What's o-clock?
Page 151 - And chose me for an humble friend; Would take me in his coach to chat, And question me of this and that; As,' What's o'clock?' and,
Page 176 - Bid her be all that cheers or softens life, The tender sister, daughter, friend, and wife; Bid her be all that makes mankind adore, Then view this marble, and be vain no more!
Page 151 - To-morrow my appeal comes on ; Without your help the cause is gone.' — ' The duke expects my lord and you, About some great affair, at two. ' — ' Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, To get my warrant quickly sign'd : Consider tis my first request.
Page 145 - I'VE often wish'd that I had clear For life six hundred pounds a year, A handsome house to lodge a friend, A river at my garden's end, A terrace-walk, and half a rood Of land set out to plant a wood.
Page 207 - Form ; a firm yet cautious Mind ; Sincere, tho" prudent; conftant, yet refign'd: Honour unchang'd, a Principle profeft, Fix'd to one fide, but...
Page 177 - Helen thy Bridgewater vie, And these be sung till Granville's Myra die: Alas ! how little from the grave we claim ! Thou but preserv'st a face, and I a name.

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