Alexander Pope ( 10 of 261 )
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire.
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire.
Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
Satire or sense, alas! Can Sporus feel?
Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?
There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something read more
There are, to whom my satire seems too bold;
Scarce to wise Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres much too rough.
The longer I live the more I see that I am never wrong about
anything, and that all the read more
The longer I live the more I see that I am never wrong about
anything, and that all the pains that I have so humbly taken to
verify my notions have only wasted my time.
Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame,
Will never mark the marble with his Name.
Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame,
Will never mark the marble with his Name.
Here files of pins extend their shining rows,
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux.
Here files of pins extend their shining rows,
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not read more
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
The heart resolves this matter in a trice,
"Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."
The heart resolves this matter in a trice,
"Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
read more
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.
