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Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.

Alexander Pope

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Alexander Pope
Age: 56 †
Born: 1688
Born: May 21
Died: 1744
Died: May 30
Literary Historian
Poet
Translator
the City
Pope the Poet
Alexander I Pope
Alexander
I Pope
Joy
Native
Happiness
Bounds
Happy
Content
Wish
Breathe
Care
Laughter
Men
Ground
Paternal
Air
Acres
Whose
Bound

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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A patriot is a fool in ev'ry age.
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What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!
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He best can paint them who shall feel them most.
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Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
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The Physician, by the study and inspection of urine and ordure, approves himself in the science and in like sort should our author accustom and exercise his imagination upon the dregs of nature.
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We may see the small value God has for riches, by the people he gives them to.
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To err is human to forgive, divine.
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Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day.
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Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.
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What bosom beast not in his country's cause?
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The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
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Know then this truth, enough for man to know virtue alone is happiness below.
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He knows to live who keeps the middle state, and neither leans on this side nor on that.
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Give me again my hollow tree A crust of bread, and liberty!
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But see, the shepherds shun the noonday heat, The lowing herds to murmuring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove Ye gods! And is there no relief for love?
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So modern 'pothecaries, taught the art By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part, Bold in the practice of mistaken rules, Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
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A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.
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'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.
Alexander Pope
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All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
Alexander Pope
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Chaos of thought and passion, all confused Still by himself abused or disabused Created half to rise, and half to fall Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled,- The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.
Alexander Pope