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The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.

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
Garden
Exquisitely
Line
Spider
Along
Spiders
Fine
Bugs
Lines
Insects
Lives
Thread
Feels
Life
Touch

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For thee I dim these eye and stuff this head With all such reading as was never read.
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Love, Hope, and Joy, fair pleasure's smiling train, Hate, Fear, and Grief, the family of pain, These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd Make and maintain the balance of the mind.
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Fine sense and exalted sense are not half so useful as common sense.
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What will a child learn sooner than a song?
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Ye gods, annihilate but space and time, And make two lovers happy.
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All nature is but art unknown to thee.
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So perish all who do the like again.
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Soft o'er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe, That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath.
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Genius involves both envy and calumny.
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I am his Highness' dog at Kew Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
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How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot A heap of dust alone remains of thee 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
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One science only will one genius fit so vast is art, so narrow human wit.
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Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.
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Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
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Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away . . . . To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
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What Conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do This teach me more than Hell to shun, That more than Heav'n pursue.
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But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise, Whom age, and long experience render wise.
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Nature made every fop to plague his brother, Just as one beauty mortifies another.
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Men, some to business, some to pleasure take But every woman is at heart a rake.
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If it be the chief point of friendship to comply with a friends motions and inclinations, he possesses this in a eminent degree he lies down when I sit, and walks when I walk, which is more than many good friends can pretend to do.
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