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Two purposes in human nature rule. Self- love to urge, and reason to restrain.

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
Self
Acceptance
Love
Rule
Purpose
Nature
Two
Restrain
Reason
Urge
Human
Purposes
Humans
Urges

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Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.
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The learned is happy, nature to explore The fool is happy, that he knows no more.
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So vast is art, so narrow human wit.
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Not to go back is somewhat to advance, and men must walk, at least, before they dance.
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Chiefs who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise through time, and narrative with age, In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice - A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
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Trace Science, then, with Modesty thy guide, First strip off all her equipage of Pride, Deduct what is but Vanity or Dress, Or Learning's Luxury or idleness, Or tricks, to show the stretch of the human brain Mere curious pleasure or ingenious pain.
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Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks through Nature up to Nature's God.
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A family is but too often a commonwealth of malignants.
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Drink is the feast of reason and the flow of soul.
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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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The difference is too nice - Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.
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Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes And when in act they cease, in prospect rise.
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How Instinct varies in the grov'ling swine.
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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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Then, at the last and only couplet fraught With some unmeaning thing they call a thought, A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
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Old politicians chew on wisdom past, And totter on in business to the last.
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Those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
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In death a hero, as in life a friend!
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Death, only death, can break the lasting chain And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain
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Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
Alexander Pope