Alexander Pope
Eloisa to Abelard
In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav’nly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in a vestal’s veins? Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat? Why feels my
The Rape of the Lock: Canto 5
She said: the pitying audience melt in tears, But Fate and Jove had stopp’d the Baron’s ears. In vain Thalestris with reproach assails, For who can move when fair Belinda fails? Not half so
Lines on Curll
So when Curll’s Stomach the strong Drench o’ercame, (Infus’d in Vengenance of insulted Fame) Th’ Avenger sees, with a delighted Eye, His long Jaws open, and his Colour fly; And while his Guts the
Two Or Three: A Recipe To Make A Cuckold
Two or three visits, and two or three bows, Two or three civil things, two or three vows, Two or three kisses, with two or three sighs, Two or three Jesus’s – and let
An Essay on Man in Four Epistles: Epistle 1
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look
From an Essay on Man
Heav’n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib’d, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below? The
The Rape of the Lock: Canto 4
But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress’d, And secret passions labour’d in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d alive, Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, Not ardent lovers robb’d of all
Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady
What beck’ning ghost, along the moon-light shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? ‘Tis she! but why that bleeding bosom gor’d, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly!
The Rape of the Lock
Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am’rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing This Verse to C -, Muse! is due; This, ev’n Belinda may vouchfafe to view: Slight
Ode on Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him
Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea
In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all
The Iliad: Book VI (excerpt)
He said, and pass’d with sad presaging heart To seek his spouse, his soul’s far dearer part; At home he sought her, but he sought in vain: She, with one maid of all her
Summer
See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! Descending Gods have found Elysium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray’d, And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade. Come lovely nymph, and bless the silent
Universal Prayer
Father of all! In every age, In ev’ry clime ador’d, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord! Thou Great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense confin’d To know
Essay on Man
The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let us (since Life can little more supply Than just to look about us and