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The flower's are gone when the Fruits appear to ripen.

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
Flower
Gone
Ripen
Fruits
Appear
Fruit

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Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.
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Amusement is the happiness of those who cannot think.
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She went from opera, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day. To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.
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Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.
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This long disease, my life.
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Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid.
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There is a majesty in simplicity.
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A man of business may talk of philosophy a man who has none may practice it.
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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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Thus God and nature linked the gen'ral frame, And bade self-love and social be the same.
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All nature's diff'rence keeps all nature's peace.
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Charm strikes the sight, but merit wins the soul.
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Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n.
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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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I lose my patience, and I own it too, When works are censur'd, not as bad but new While if our Elders break all reason's laws, These fools demand not pardon but Applause.
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Truth shines the brighter, clad in verse.
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True wit is nature to advantage dressed What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed.
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Our passions are like convulsion fits, which, though they make us stronger for a time, leave us the weaker ever after.
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Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow The rest is all but leather and prunello.
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But to the world no bugbear is so great, As want of figure and a small estate.
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