Alexander Pope

Where round some mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.

Where round some mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.

Who know but He, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms,
read more

Who know but He, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms,
Pours fierce ambition in a Caesar's mind.

But if
We have such another victory, we are undone.

But if
We have such another victory, we are undone.

A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious read more

A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How read more

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole;
How here he sipp'd, how there he plunder'd snug,
And suck'd all o'er like an industrious bug.