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But touch me, and no minister so sore. Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burthen of some merry song.

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
Ministers
Unlucky
Touch
Slides
Sacred
Verse
Song
Merry
Whole
Ridicule
Burthen
Long
Verses
Time
Rhyme
Offends
Life
Minister
Sore

More quotes by Alexander Pope

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At ev'ry word a reputation dies.
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Expression is the dress of thought, and still Appears more decent as more suitable A vile conceit in pompous words express'd, Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd.
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O peace! how many wars were waged in thy name.
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How Instinct varies in the grov'ling swine.
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I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.
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For I, who hold sage Homer's rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest.
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Histories are more full of examples of the fidelity of dogs than of friends.
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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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Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
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All nature's diff'rence keeps all nature's peace.
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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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Oh, blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by heaven.
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Learn of the little nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.
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Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend.
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E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me.
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Men must be taught as if you taught them not, and things unknown proposed as things forgot.
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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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True disputants are like true sportsmen: their whole delight is in the pursuit.
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What is it to be wise? 'Tis but to know how little can be known, To see all others' faults, and feel our own.
Alexander Pope
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Of little use, the man you may suppose, Who says in verse what others say in prose Yet let me show a poet's of some weight, And (though no soldier) useful to the state, What will a child learn sooner than a song? What better teach a foreigner the tongue? What's long or short, each accent where to place And speak in public with some sort of grace?
Alexander Pope