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Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!

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
Beauty
Grove
Lost
Withered
Frost
Behold
Shine
Silver
Shining
Verdure
Winter
Groves

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Man never thinks himself happy, but when he enjoys those things which others want or desire.
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Charm strikes the sight, but merit wins the soul.
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Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.
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The hog that ploughs not, not obeys thy call, Lives on the labours of this lord of all.
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Who combats bravely is not therefore brave, He dreads a death-bed like the meanest slave: Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise,- His pride in reasoning, not in acting lies.
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Sure of their qualities and demanding praise, more go to ruined fortunes than are raised.
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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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A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.
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Oft in dreams invention we bestow to change a flounce or add a furbelow.
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True disputants are like true sportsmen: their whole delight is in the pursuit.
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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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Art still followed where Rome's eagles flew.
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Nay, fly to altars there they'll talk you dead For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
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The world is a thing we must of necessity either laugh at or be angry at if we laugh at it, they say we are proud if we are angry at it, they say we are ill-natured.
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Hope springs eternal.
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The bookful blockhead ignorantly read, With loads of learned lumber in his head, With his own tongue still edifies his ears, And always list'ning to himself appears. All books he reads, and all he reads assails.
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How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense, and love the offender, yet detest the offence?
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Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue
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Nothing can be more shocking and horrid than one of our kitchens sprinkled with blood, and abounding with the cries of expiring victims or with the limbs of dead animals scattered or hung up here and there.
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The doubtful beam long nods from side to side.
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