Alexander Pope

To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
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To wake the soul by tender strokes of art,
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart;
To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold,
Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold--
For this the tragic Muse first trod the stage.

Expression is the dress of thought, and still
Appears more decent as more suitable;
A vile conceit read more

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.

Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
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Pretty! in amber to observe the forms
Of hairs, of straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms!
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.

Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.

Our proper bliss depends on what we blame.

Chaos of thought and passion all confused.

Chaos of thought and passion all confused.