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To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines, Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines.

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
Wines
Slumber
Vines
Purple
Wine
Deep
Happy

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True friendship's laws are by this rule express'd, Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest.
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Nor in the critic let the man be lost.
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Men must be taught as if you taught them not, and things unknown proposed as things forgot.
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Some men's wit is like a dark lantern, which serves their own turn and guides them their own way, but is never known (according to the Scripture phrase) either to shine forth before men, or to glorify their Father in heaven.
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What then remains, but well our power to use, And keep good-humor still whate'er we lose? And trust me, dear, good-humor can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.
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And binding nature fast in fate, Left free the human will.
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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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But see how oft ambition's aims are cross'd, and chiefs contend 'til all the prize is lost!
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Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
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Then sculpture and her sister arts revived stones leaped to form, and rocks began to live.
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Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure 'gainst age but it
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The laughers are a majority.
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Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
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A work of art that contains theories is like an object on which the price tag has been left.
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Strength of mind is exercise, not rest.
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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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For critics, as they are birds of prey, have ever a natural inclination to carrion.
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Did some more sober critics come abroad? If wrong, I smil'd if right, I kiss'd the rod.
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Giving advice is many times only the privilege of saying a foolish thing one's self, under the pretense of hindering another from doing one.
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Heaven forming each on other to depend, A master, or a servant, or a friend, Bids each on other for assistance call, Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
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