Author: Alexander Pope

Heav’n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib’d, their present state: From brutes what […]

But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress’d, And secret passions labour’d in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d […]

What beck’ning ghost, along the moon-light shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? ‘Tis she! but why that […]

Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am’rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing This Verse […]

Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his […]

In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall […]

He said, and pass’d with sad presaging heart To seek his spouse, his soul’s far dearer part; At home he […]

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! Descending Gods have found Elysium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray’d, […]

Father of all! In every age, In ev’ry clime ador’d, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or […]

The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let […]

I But our Great Turks in wit must reign alone And ill can bear a Brother on the Throne. II […]

NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, “Most Women have no Characters at all.” Matter too soft a […]

Close by those meads, for ever crown’d with flow’rs, Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow’rs, There stands a […]

Not with more glories, in th’ etherial plain, The sun first rises o’er the purpled main, Than, issuing forth, the […]

Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos; Sedjuvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis. (Martial, Epigrams 12.84) What dire offence from am’rous causes […]

Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu’d, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I’m sick, I’m dead. The dog-star […]

I know the thing that’s most uncommon; (Envy be silent and attend!) I know a Reasonable Woman, Handsome and witty, […]

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan The proper study of Mankind is Man. Placed on this isthmus of […]

I. How happy he, who free from care The rage of courts, and noise of towns; Contented breaths his native […]

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance. ‘Tis not […]