The poetical works of Alexander Pope: with his last corrections, additions and improvements, Том 1

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Сторінка 21 - 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...
Сторінка 21 - Dreading ev'n fools, by flatterers besieged, And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged; Like Cato, give his little Senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars ev'ry sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise: Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he?
Сторінка 178 - And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast: There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow, There the first roses of the year shall blow; While angels with their silver wings o'ershade The ground now sacred by thy relics made. So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame.
Сторінка 21 - Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause; While wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — Who but must laugh, if such a man there be? Who would not weep, if Atticus were he? What though my name stood rubric on the walls, Or plaster'd posts, with claps, in capitals? Or smoking forth, a hundred hawkers...
Сторінка 176 - Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, The glorious fault of angels and of gods; Thence to their images on earth it flows, And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows.
Сторінка 124 - The swain in barren deserts with surprise Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ; And starts amidst the thirsty wilds to hear New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
Сторінка 17 - How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Сторінка 123 - Oh spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born ! See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring, With all the incense of the breathing spring...
Сторінка 125 - The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead, And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead : The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
Сторінка 166 - Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirit bade the waters flow; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n, And mild as op'ning gleams of promis'd heav'n.

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