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Words are like Leaves and where they most abound, Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.

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
Much
Leaves
Like
Fruit
Knowledge
Words
Language
Sense
Abound
Found
Beneath
Writing
Rarely

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Nor Fame I slight, nor her favors call.
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And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
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To observations which ourselves we make, we grow more partial for th' observer's sake.
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Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would improve.
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Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
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And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances and the public show.
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The good must merit God's peculiar care But who but God can tell us who they are?
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All nature's diff'rence keeps all nature's peace.
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Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne, They rise, they break, and to that sea return.
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A man of business may talk of philosophy a man who has none may practice it.
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Dogs, ye have had your day!
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See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
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To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
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To err is human to forgive, divine.
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Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing.
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Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurled: / The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
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Thus unlamented pass the proud away, The gaze of fools and pageant of a day So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow For others' good, or melt at others' woe.
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Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
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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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chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.
Alexander Pope