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But blind to former as to future fate, what mortal knows his pre-existent state?

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
States
Mortal
Mortals
Former
Blind
Fate
Destiny
State
Future
Existent

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Yes, I am proud I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me.
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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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Oh, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise. By mountains pil'd on mountains to the skies? Heav'n still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.
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Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
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A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
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No, make me mistress to the man I love If there be yet another name more free More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
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No writing is good that does not tend to better mankind in some way or other.
Alexander Pope
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Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamtrous lapwings feel the leaden death Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare They fall, and leave their little lives in air.
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Know then, unnumber'd Spirits round thee fly, The light Militia of the lower sky.
Alexander Pope
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Passions are the gales of life.
Alexander Pope
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Order is Heaven's first law and this confessed, some are, and must be, greater than the rest, more rich, more wise but who infers from hence that such are happier, shocks all common sense. Condition, circumstance, is not the thing bliss is the same in subject or in king.
Alexander Pope
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The Dying Christian to His Soul (1712) -Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Stanza 1.
Alexander Pope
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Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
Alexander Pope
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Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n.
Alexander Pope
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Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes.
Alexander Pope
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Genius creates, and taste preserves.
Alexander Pope
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Party-spirit at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
Alexander Pope
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Unthought-of Frailties cheat us in the Wise.
Alexander Pope
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Trade it may help, society extend, But lures the Pirate, ant corrupts the friend: It raises armies in a nation's aid, But bribes a senate, and the land's betray'd.
Alexander Pope
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O happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die.
Alexander Pope