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Men would be angels, angels would be gods.

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
Ambition
Would
Men
Angels
Gods
Angel

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Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?
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There is a majesty in simplicity.
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For when success a lover's toil attends,Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends
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And more than echoes talk along the walls.
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Great oaks grow from little acorns. He has a green thumb. He has green fingers. He's sowing his wild oats. Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand.
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Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy to catch me, just at dinner-time.
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Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.
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Dogs, ye have had your day!
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Fools admire, but men of sense approve.
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But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse Sharp Boreas blows, and nature feels decay, Time conquers all, and we must time obey.
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Every man has just as much vanity as he wants understanding.
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To the Elysian shades dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.
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Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.
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Live like yourself, was soon my lady's word, And lo! two puddings smok'd upon the board.
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See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.
Alexander Pope
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For wit and judgment often are at strife, Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
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Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering 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.
Alexander Pope
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Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
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And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
Alexander Pope
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A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
Alexander Pope