The Works of Alexander Popekesq., with Notes and Illustrations by Himself and Others: To which Were Added, a New Life of the Author, an Estimate of His Poetical Character and Writings, and Occasional Remarks, Tom 3
C. and J. Rivington, 1824
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The Works of Alexander Popekesq., with Notes and Illustrations by Himself ...
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admiration ancient appears attend beauty Bowles called cause character COMMENTARY Critic death Dryden effect equal Essay ev'ry excellent expression eyes fair false fate genius give given grace hand head heart heav'n Homer honour ideas IMITATIONS Italy judge judgment kind Lady language learning less letters light lines living Lock Lord lost manner mean mentioned mind moral Muse nature never NOTES o'er object observed occasion once opinion original painted passage passion perhaps person piece play poem poet poetical poetry Pope praise precepts Pride reason remarkable rise rules says sense shews soul sound speak spirit taste tears thing thou thought translation true truth turn verse Virgil Warburton Warton whole writing written
Strona 101 - The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Strona 93 - And value books, as women men, for dress: Their praise is still, — the style is excellent; The sense, they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found...
Strona 45 - Ten Censure wrong for one who Writes amiss ; A Fool might once himself alone expose, Now One in Verse makes many more in Prose. 'Tis with our Judgments as our Watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
Strona 7 - Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Here earth and water seem to strive again ; Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd, But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd : Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree.
Strona 186 - This day, black omens threat the brightest fair, That e'er deserv'da watchful spirit's care; Some dire disaster, or by force, or slight; But what, or where, the fates have wrapt in night. Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, Or some frail china jar receive a flaw; Or stain her honour, or her new brocade; Forget her pray'rs, or miss a masquerade; Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball; Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock must fall.
Strona 53 - As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile ; Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call, Their generation's so equivocal : To tell 'em, would a hundred tongues require, Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire.
Strona 81 - While from the bounded level of our mind, Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind; But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise, New distant scenes of endless science rise!
Strona 204 - fore Gad, you must be civil! "Plague on't! 'tis past a jest — nay prithee, pox! "Give her the hair" — he spoke, and rapp'd his box. "It grieves me much" (replied the Peer again) "Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain. But by this Lock, this sacred Lock I swear, (Which never more shall join its parted hair; Which...
Strona 176 - To one man's treat, but for another's ball? When Florio speaks what virgin could withstand, If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? With varying vanities, from every part, They shift the moving Toyshop of their heart; Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive.
Strona 196 - And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies. Not louder shrieks to pitying heav'n are cast, When husbands, or when lap-dogs breathe their last; Or when rich china vessels fall'n from high, In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie! "Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine," (The victor cry'd) "the glorious prize is mine!