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The doubtful beam long nods from side to side.

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
Nods
Beam
Doubtful
Side
Doubt
Sides
Long

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Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.
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Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.
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Ah! why, ye Gods, should two and two make four?
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A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows.
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What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.
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Who builds a church to God and not to fame, Will never mark the marble with his name.
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Beauty draws us with a single hair.
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The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
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All other goods by fortune's hand are given, A wife is the peculiar gift of Heaven.
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Heaven gave to woman the peculiar grace To spin, to weep, and cully human race.
Alexander Pope
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And empty heads console with empty sound.
Alexander Pope
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Placed on this isthmus of a middle state.
Alexander Pope
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Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies: O write it not, my hand - the name appears Already written - wash it out, my tears! In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays, Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.
Alexander Pope
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Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
Alexander Pope
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Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, Earth for whose use? Pride answers, 'Tis for mine For me kind nature wakes her genial power, Suckles each herb, and spreads out every flower.
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Expression is the dress of thought.
Alexander Pope
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Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.
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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Mankind is unamendable.
Alexander Pope
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As some to church repair, Not for the doctrine, but the music there. These equal syllables alone require, Though oft the ear the open vowels tire While expletives their feeble aid do join, And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.
Alexander Pope