An Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope, Volume 2

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J. Dodsley, 1782

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Page 126 - Lo the poor Indian! whofe untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind ; His foul proud fcience never taught to ftray, Far as the folar walk or milky way ; Yet fimple nature to his hope has giv'n, Behind the cloud-topp'd hill an humbler heav'n
Page 288 - Why did I write ? what fin, to me unknown, Dipt me in ink, my parents or my own ? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lifp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. I left no calling for this idle trade, No duty broke, no father difobey'd
Page 331 - O friend ! may each domeftic blifs be thine! Be no unpleafing melancholy mine! Me, let the tender office long engage, To rock the cradle of repofing age * ; With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, Make languor fmile, and fmooth the bed of death ; Explore the thought, explain the
Page 317 - run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he fpeaks, And as the prompter breathes the puppet fqueaks, Or at the ear of Eve, familiar toad *, Half froth, half venom, fpits himfelf abroad. In puns, or politics, or tales, or lyes, Or fpite, or fmut, or rhymes, or blafphemies.—
Page 174 - Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound ? Or hoftile millions prefs him to the ground ? His fall was deftin'd to a barren ftrand, A petty fortrefs and a dubious hand;' He left a name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a
Page 243 - Confult the GENIUS* of the place in all, That tells the waters, or to rife or fall; Or helps th' ambitious hill the heav'ns to fcale, Or fcoops in circling theatres the vale; Calls in the country, catches op'ning glades, Joins willing woods, and varies fhades from
Page 38 - airs, Enchanting fhell! the fullen cares, And frantic paffions hear thy foft controul. On Thracia's hills the lord of war Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropp'd his thirfty lance at thy command. Perching on the fceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king, With ruffled
Page 156 - work'd folely for thy good, Thy joy, thypaftime, thy attire, thy food ? Who for thy table feeds the wanton fawn, For him as kindly fpread the flowery lawn: Is it for thee the lark afcends and fings ? Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings
Page 204 - 15. See how the world its veterans rewards, A youth of frolics, an old age of cards; Fair to no purpofe, artful to no end, Young without lovers, old without a friend ; A fop their paffion, but their prize a fot, Alive, ridiculous ; and dead, forgot
Page 15 - iflcs, Plac'd far amid the melancholy Main, (Whether it be lone fancy him beguiles, Or that aerial beings fometimes deign To ftand, embodied, to our fenfes plain) Sees on the naked hill or valley low, The whilft in ocean Phoebus dips his wain, A vaft aflembly moving to and fro, Then all at once in air diflblves the

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