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In adamantine chains shall Death be bound, And Hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound.

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
Eternal
Tyrant
Hell
Grim
Shall
Wound
Future
Tyrants
Death
Bound
Feel
Chains
Feels
Wounds
Bounds
Adamantine

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Know, Nature's children all divide her care, The fur that warms a monarch warmed a bear.
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See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
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Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies: O write it not, my hand - the name appears Already written - wash it out, my tears! In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays, Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.
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Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, Not one will change his neighbor with himself.
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Art still followed where Rome's eagles flew.
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The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd
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One science only will one genius fit so vast is art, so narrow human wit.
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What's fame? a fancy'd life in other's breath. A thing beyond us, even before our death.
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Dear, damned, distracting town, farewell! Thy fools no more I'll tease: This year in peace, ye critics, dwell, Ye harlots, sleep at ease!
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Every woman is at heart a rake.
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Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, Amaze th' unlearn'd and make the learned smile.
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Give me again my hollow tree A crust of bread, and liberty!
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To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, who never mentions hell to ears polite.
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The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read With loads of learned lumber in his head.
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Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.
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Never elated while one man's oppress'd Never dejected while another's blessed.
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Condition, circumstance, is not the thing Bliss is the same in subject or in king.
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So upright Quakers please both man and God.
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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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Thus God and nature linked the gen'ral frame, And bade self-love and social be the same.
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