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Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day.

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
Birds
Wake
Bird
Hear
Musick
Dawning
Blooming
Spray
Joyous

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Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
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They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
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Like Cato, give his little senate laws, and sit attentive to his own applause.
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Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.
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On life's vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.
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Strength of mind is exercise, not rest.
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A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn.
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Women use lovers as they do cards they play with them a while, and when they have got all they can by them, throw them away, call for new ones, and then perhaps lose by the new all they got by the old ones.
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Let fortune do her worst, whatever she makes us lose, so long as she never makes us lose our honesty and our independence.
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The grave unites where e'en the great find rest, And blended lie th' oppressor and th' oppressed!
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As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.
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How index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of science by the tail!
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But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.
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When to the Permanent is sacrificed the Mutable, the prize is thine: the drop returneth whence it came. The Open Path leads to the changeless change - Non-Being, the glorious state of Absoluteness, the Bliss past human thought.
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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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Self-love, the spring of motion, acts the soul Reason's comparing balance rules the whole. Man, but for that no action could attend, And, but for this, were active to no end: Fix'd like a plant on his peculiar spot, To draw nutrition, propagate, and rot Or, meteor-like, flame lawless thro' the void, Destroying others, by himself destroy'd.
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Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.
Alexander Pope
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A disputant no more cares for the truth than the sportsman for the hare.
Alexander Pope
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Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows.
Alexander Pope
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Say, will the falcon, stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove? Admires the jay the insect's gilded wings? Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings?
Alexander Pope