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
Air
Daphne
Shall
Mounting
Suspend
Larks
Sings
List
Lists
Wings
Ning

More quotes by Alexander Pope

Image
You eat, in dreams, the custard of the day.
Alexander Pope
Image
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
Image
There is a majesty in simplicity.
Alexander Pope
Image
The lot of man - to suffer and to die.
Alexander Pope
Image
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below?
Alexander Pope
Image
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.
Alexander Pope
Image
O peace! how many wars were waged in thy name.
Alexander Pope
Image
Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend.
Alexander Pope
Image
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows.
Alexander Pope
Image
Music the fiercest grief can charm, And fate's severest rage disarm. Music can soften pain to ease, And make despair and madness please Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the bliss above.
Alexander Pope
Image
With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?-She wants a heart.
Alexander Pope
Image
The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Alexander Pope
Image
Beauty draws us with a single hair.
Alexander Pope
Image
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all .
Alexander Pope
Image
Light quirks of music, broken and uneven,Make the soul dance upon a jig to Heav'n.
Alexander Pope
Image
Why did I write? whose sin to me unknown Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Alexander Pope
Image
Of fight or fly, This choice is left ye, to resist or die.
Alexander Pope
Image
Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
Alexander Pope
Image
For forms of government, let fools contest Whate'er is best administered, is best.
Alexander Pope
Image
Is there a parson much bemused in beer, a maudlin poetess, a rhyming peer, a clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, who pens a stanza when he should engross?
Alexander Pope