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How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!

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
Exalts
Keen
Glowing
Guilt
Delight

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And soften'd sounds along the waters die: Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play.
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Truth shines the brighter, clad in verse.
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Oft in dreams invention we bestow to change a flounce or add a furbelow.
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No writing is good that does not tend to better mankind in some way or other.
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Ah! what avails it me the flocks to keep, Who lost my heart while I preserv'd my sheep.
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True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance.
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Still follow sense, of ev'ry art the soul, Parts answering parts shall slide into a whole.
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Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
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From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.
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For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight his can't be wrong whose life is in the right.
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Beauty draws us with a single hair.
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Wit and judgment often are at strife.
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Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid.
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Content if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view, The learn'd reflect on what before they knew.
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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?
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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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Like Cato, give his little senate laws, and sit attentive to his own applause.
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Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day.
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Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?
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Such as are still observing upon others are like those who are always abroad at other men's houses, reforming everything there while their own runs to ruin.
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