The whole poetical works of Alexander Pope, Esq., including his translations of Homer's Iliad and OdysseyA. Miller, 1800 - English poetry |
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Achilles Ajax Alcinous Antilochus arms Atrides bleft bold brave breaft caft caufe chief courfers crown'd death defcends divine dreadful duft Eurymachus Ev'n eyes facred fafe faid fair fame fate fatire feas fhade fhall fhining fhips fhore fhould fide field fierce fight filver fince fire firft fkies flain flame fleep flies foft fome forrows foul fpear fpoke fpread fprings ftand ftill ftream fuch fure fury glory Goddefs Gods grace Grecian Greece Greeks hand heart Heaven Hector hero himſelf hoft honours Idomeneus Ilion Jove juft king laft lefs loft lord mighty Mufe muft numbers nymph o'er paffion Pallas Patroclus Peleus plain Priam prince queen race rage reft rife round ſhall ſhore ſkies ſtand ſtate tears Telemachus thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou thunder toils trembling Trojan Troy Ulyffes vafe whofe wife woes wound youth
Popular passages
Page 309 - For, that sad moment, when the sylphs withdrew, And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew, Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite, As ever sullied the fair face of light, Down to the central earth, his proper scene, Repair'd to search the gloomy cave of Spleen.
Page 6 - Homer was the greater genius, Virgil the better artist. In one, we most admire the man ; in the other, the work: Homer hurries and transports us with a commanding impetuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty...
Page 317 - Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires, Love finds an altar for forbidden fires. I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought; I mourn the lover, not lament the fault; I view my crime, but kindle at the view...
Page 301 - Some to Conceit alone their taste confine, And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line; Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit; One glaring Chaos and wild heap of wit. Poets, like painters, thus, unskill'd to trace The naked nature and the living grace, With gold and jewels cover ev'ry part, And hide with ornaments their want of art.
Page 376 - A cherub's face, a reptile all the rest; Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust, Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Page 355 - Is it for thee the lark ascends and sings? Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings. Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat ? Loves of his own and raptures swell the note.
Page 394 - Seen him, unencumbered with the venal tribe, Smile without art, and win without a bribe. Would he oblige me? let me only find He does not think me what he thinks mankind.
Page 308 - Soon as she spreads her hand, th' aerial guard Descend, and sit on each important card: First Ariel perched upon a Matadore, Then each, according to the rank they bore; For Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, 35 Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place.
Page 312 - How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Page 361 - The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads ; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace ; His country next ; and next all human race ; Wide and more wide, th...