Alexander Pope

'Tis thus the mercury of man is fix'd,
Strong grows the virtue with his nature mix'd.

'Tis thus the mercury of man is fix'd,
Strong grows the virtue with his nature mix'd.

Fondly we think we honor merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men.

Fondly we think we honor merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men.

Line after line my gushing eye o'erflow,
Led thro' a said variety of woe:
Now warm in read more

Line after line my gushing eye o'erflow,
Led thro' a said variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom,
Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!

The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.

The ruling passion, be it what it will,
The ruling passion conquers reason still.

. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews read more

. . . th' approach of night
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.