Quote

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings, Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.

Alexander Pope

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Sings
List
Lists
Wings
Ning
Air
Daphne
Shall
Mounting
Suspend
Larks

More quotes by Alexander Pope

Image
In a sadly pleasing strain, let the warbling lute complain.
Alexander Pope
Image
That virtue only makes our bliss below, And all our knowledge is ourselves to know.
Alexander Pope
Image
Our business in the field of fight, Is not to question, but to prove our might.
Alexander Pope
Image
In death a hero, as in life a friend!
Alexander Pope
Image
Virtue alone is happiness below.
Alexander Pope
Image
The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read With loads of learned lumber in his head.
Alexander Pope
Image
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs.
Alexander Pope
Image
To endeavor to work upon the vulgar with fine sense is like attempting to hew blocks with a razor.
Alexander Pope
Image
The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.
Alexander Pope
Image
Consult the genius of the place, that paints as you plant, and as you work.
Alexander Pope
Image
Man, like the generous vine, supported lives the strength he gains is from the embrace he gives.
Alexander Pope
Image
Index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of Science by the tail. Index-learning is a term used to mock pretenders who acquire superficial knowledge merely by consulting indexes.
Alexander Pope
Image
What riches give us let us then inquire: Meat, fire, and clothes. What more? Meat, clothes, and fire. Is this too little?
Alexander Pope
Image
No more was seen the human form divine.
Alexander Pope
Image
So perish all who do the like again.
Alexander Pope
Image
Dulness! whose good old cause I yet defend, With whom my muse began, with who shall end.
Alexander Pope
Image
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
Image
To happy convents, bosomed deep in vines, Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines.
Alexander Pope
Image
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
Alexander Pope
Image
A God without dominion, providence, and final causes, is nothing else but fate and nature.
Alexander Pope