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Let Joy or Ease, let Affluence or Content, And the gay Conscience of a life well spent, Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace, Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face.

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
Thought
Spent
Wells
Smile
Well
Conscience
Affluence
Heart
Joy
Glow
Life
Grace
Ease
Face
Content
Faces
Gay
Upon
Calm

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Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.
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We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.
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Two purposes in human nature rule. Self- love to urge, and reason to restrain.
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Wit is the lowest form of humor.
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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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I am his Highness' dog at Kew Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
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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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But honest instinct comes a volunteer Sure never to o'er-shoot, but just to hit, While still too wide or short in human wit.
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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
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There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.
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Honor and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part: there all the honor lies.
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So man, who here seems principal alone, Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal 'Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
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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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Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
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No, make me mistress to the man I love If there be yet another name more free More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
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Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?
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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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A perfect Judge will read each work of Wit With the same spirit that its author writ: Survey the Whole, nor seek slight faults to find Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.
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When I die, I should be ashamed to leave enough to build me a monument if there were a wanting friend above ground. I would enjoy the pleasure of what I give by giving it alive and seeing another enjoy it.
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Eve left Adam, to meet the Devil in private.
Alexander Pope