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But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse Sharp Boreas blows, and nature feels decay, Time conquers all, and we must time obey.

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
Arise
Dew
Unwholesome
Winter
Blows
Dews
Blow
Obey
Orion
Nature
Sharp
Noxious
Must
Decay
Diffuse
Feels
Shed
Pines
Time
Shade
Sheds
Conquer
Conquers

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Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
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The learned is happy, nature to explore The fool is happy, that he knows no more.
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Sometimes virtue starves while vice is fed.
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There is a majesty in simplicity.
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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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The way of the Creative works through change and transformation, so that each thing receives its true nature and destiny and comes into permanent accord with the Great Harmony: this is what furthers and what perseveres.
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The race by vigour, not by vaunts, is won.
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He knows to live who keeps the middle state, and neither leans on this side nor on that.
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In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew?
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To balance Fortune by a just expense, Join with Economy, Magnificence.
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Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild In Wit a man Simplicity, a child.
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I have more zeal than wit.
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Act well your part, there all the honour lies.
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Passions are the gales of life.
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Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be, In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
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That virtue only makes our bliss below, And all our knowledge is ourselves to know.
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Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
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With ev'ry pleasing, ev'ry prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want?-She wants a heart.
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As with narrow-necked bottles the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring out.
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Whenever I find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man, I take it for granted there would be as much generosity if he were a rich man.
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