The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: Sappho to Phaon. Eloisa to Abelard. The temple of fame. January and May. The wife of Bath. The first book of Statius's Thebais. The fable of Dryope. Vertumnus and Pomona. Imitations [of English poets] Miscellanies. Epitaphs
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Abelard Adrastus Æneid appears Argos beauty blest breast bright character charms Chaucer croud crown'd cry'd dame daughter dear death divine dread Dryden Dryope Dunciad Eclogue Eloisa ELOISA TO ABELARD Epistle Epitaph Eteocles Ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame fate father fays flame flow'ry foul fury genius gentle grace hæc heart heav'n Homer honour humour IMITATIONS Jove joys King Lady Laius lines live Lord lov'd mihi Muse night NOTES numbers nymph o'er once Ovid passion Petrarch Phaon Phœbus Pindar pleas'd poem poet Pope Pope's pow'r pray'r quæ Queen quod rage rais'd rest Sappho shade shew shine sigh Sir William Wyndham soft soul Statius sweet tale tears temple tender Thebes thee thou thought tibi translation trees trembling Twas Tydeus verses Vertumnus virgin virtue Warton wife youth
الصفحة 39 - Oh! happy state! when souls each other draw, When love is liberty, and nature law...
الصفحة 78 - As when a shepherd of the Hebrid Isles*, Placed far amid the melancholy main, (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles ; Or that aerial beings sometimes deign To stand embodied, to our senses plain) Sees on the naked hill, or valley low, The whilst in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, A vast assembly moving to and fro: Then all at once in air dissolves the wondrous show.
الصفحة 39 - em all: Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove; No, make me mistress to the man I love; If there be yet another name more free, More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
الصفحة 53 - And smooth my passage to the realms of day; See my lips tremble, and my eyeballs roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Ah no — in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, Present the Cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
الصفحة 422 - Kneller, by Heaven, and not a master taught, Whose art was nature, and whose pictures thought ; Now for two ages, having snatch'd from fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, Lies crown'd with Princes' honours, Poets' lays, Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise.
الصفحة 44 - Sad proof how well a lover can obey ! Death, only death, can break the lasting chain ; And here ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain, Here all its frailties, all its flames resign, And wait, till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.
الصفحة 41 - Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd; Give all thou canst — and let me dream the rest.
الصفحة 100 - world, nor in broad rumour lies, ^But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, And...
الصفحة 48 - I say : I stretch my empty arms ; it glides away. To dream once more I close my willing eyes ; Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise ! 240 Alas, no more! methinks we wand'ring go Thro...