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Though triumphs were to generals only due, crowns were reserved to grace the soldiers too.

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
Grace
Generals
Though
Triumphs
Reserved
Crowns
Soldiers
Dues
Triumph
Soldier

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Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.
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In vain sedate reflections we would make When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take.
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To what base ends, and by what abject ways, Are mortals urg'd through sacred lust of praise!
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Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure 'gainst age but it
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Find, if you can, in what you cannot change. Manners with fortunes, humours turn with climes, Tenets with books, and principles with times.
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Giving advice is many times only the privilege of saying a foolish thing one's self, under the pretense of hindering another from doing one.
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Fondly we think we honor merit then, when we but praise ourselves in other men.
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Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,-health, peace, and competence.
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Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw.
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I am his Highness' dog at Kew Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
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Virtue, I grant you, is an empty boast But shall the dignity of vice be lost?
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What bosom beast not in his country's cause?
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What will a child learn sooner than a song?
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Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy to catch me, just at dinner-time.
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What then remains, but well our power to use, And keep good-humor still whate'er we lose? And trust me, dear, good-humor can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.
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To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart
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But see how oft ambition's aims are cross'd, and chiefs contend 'til all the prize is lost!
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What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
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Extremes in nature equal ends produce In man they join to some mysterious use.
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The finest minds, like the finest metals, dissolve the easiest.
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