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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?

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
Remove
Shades
Relief
Flocks
Heat
Shepherds
Gods
Herds
Summer
Brooks
Noonday
Love
Retreat
Panting
Shade
Murmuring
Closer
Shun

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Every man has just as much vanity as he wants understanding.
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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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But touch me, and no minister so sore. Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burthen of some merry song.
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So upright Quakers please both man and God.
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That each from other differs, first confess next that he varies from himself no less.
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To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
Alexander Pope
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Nothing is more certain than much of the force as well as grace, of arguments or instructions depends their conciseness.
Alexander Pope
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And binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
Alexander Pope
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At every trifle take offense, that always shows great pride or little sense.
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'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.
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Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust, Yet cry, if man's unhappy, God's unjust.
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Expression is the dress of thought, and still Appears more decent as more suitable A vile conceit in pompous words express'd, Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd.
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What so pure, which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair, With matchless impudence they style a wife, The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, A night invasion, and a mid-day devil Let not the wise these sland'rous words regard, But curse the bones of ev'ry living bard.
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Content if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view, The learn'd reflect on what before they knew.
Alexander Pope
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She went from opera, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day. To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.
Alexander Pope
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He best can paint them who shall feel them most.
Alexander Pope
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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.
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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Atheists put on false courage and alacrity in the midst of their darkness and apprehensions, like children who, when they fear to go in the dark, will sing for fear.
Alexander Pope
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With sharpen'd sight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears The sacred rust of twice ten hundred years.
Alexander Pope