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And write about it, Goddess, and about it!

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
Goddess
Write
Writing

More quotes by 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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Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
Alexander Pope
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Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd, The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Alexander Pope
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Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
Alexander Pope
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True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd Something whose truth convinced at sight we find, That gives us back the image of our mind. As shades more sweetly recommend the light, So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit.
Alexander Pope
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Oh, when shall Britain, conscious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame? In living medals see her wars enroll'd, And vanquished realms supply recording gold?
Alexander Pope
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Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.
Alexander Pope
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Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust, Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust.
Alexander Pope
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But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.
Alexander Pope
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Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.
Alexander Pope
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In this commonplace world every one is said to be romantic who either admires a fine thing or does one.
Alexander Pope
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What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.
Alexander Pope
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Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise and rudely great... He hangs between in doubt to act or rest In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast In doubt his mind or body to prefer Born to die, and reasoning but to err.
Alexander Pope
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Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone, A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick, On passive paper, or on solid brick.
Alexander Pope
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In lazy apathy let stoics boast, their virtue fixed, 'tis fixed as in a frost.
Alexander Pope
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Ladies, like variegated tulips, show 'Tis to their changes half their charms we owe.
Alexander Pope
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Alas! the small discredit of a bribe Scarce hurts the lawyer, but undoes the scribe.
Alexander Pope
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See! From the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings Short is his joy! He feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Alexander Pope
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Where grows?--where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.
Alexander Pope
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In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies All quit their sphere and rush into the skies. Pride still is aiming at the bless'd abodes, Men would be angels, angels would be gods.
Alexander Pope