Alexander Pope

The glorious fault of angels and of gods.

The glorious fault of angels and of gods.

Lull'd by soft zephyrs thro' the broken pane.

Lull'd by soft zephyrs thro' the broken pane.

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his read more

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.

All seems infected that the infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.

All seems infected that the infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye.

Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.

Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.