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A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!

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
Lying
Bleeding
Deceit
Lover
Bound
Bounds
Naked
Lovers
Lies

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The finest minds, like the finest metals, dissolve the easiest.
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Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall And universal darkness buries all.
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Nor Fame I slight, nor her favors call.
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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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The lot of man - to suffer and to die.
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Judge not of actions by their mere effect Dive to the center, and the cause detect. Great deeds from meanest springs may take their course, And smallest virtues from a mighty source.
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With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?-She wants a heart.
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A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
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The world is a thing we must of necessity either laugh at or be angry at if we laugh at it, they say we are proud if we are angry at it, they say we are ill-natured.
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No creature smarts so little as a fool.
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Here thou, great Anna! Whom three realms obey, / Dost sometimes counsel take—and sometimes tea.
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Every professional was once an amateur.
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On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.
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When I die, I should be ashamed to leave enough to build me a monument if there were a wanting friend above ground. I would enjoy the pleasure of what I give by giving it alive and seeing another enjoy it.
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Sickness is a sort of early old age it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly state.
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And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.
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Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!
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The flower's are gone when the Fruits appear to ripen.
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Sure of their qualities and demanding praise, more go to ruined fortunes than are raised.
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Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow The rest is all but leather and prunello.
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