Alexander Pope ( 10 of 261 )
Search then the ruling passion; there alone,
The wild are constant, and the cunning known;
The fool read more
Search then the ruling passion; there alone,
The wild are constant, and the cunning known;
The fool consistent, and the false sincere;
Priests, princes, women, no dissemblers here.
The heart resolves this matter in a trice,
"Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."
The heart resolves this matter in a trice,
"Men only feel the smart, but not the vice."
Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place.
Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place.
Never elated while one man's oppress'd;
Never dejected while another's blessed.
Never elated while one man's oppress'd;
Never dejected while another's blessed.
With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.
With him most authors steal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own Dispensary.
In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.
In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.
What riches give us let us then inquire:
Meat, fire, and clothes. What more? Meat, clothes, and fire.
read more
What riches give us let us then inquire:
Meat, fire, and clothes. What more? Meat, clothes, and fire.
Is this too little?
We conquered France, but felt our captive's charms,
Her arts victorious triumph'd o'er our arms.
We conquered France, but felt our captive's charms,
Her arts victorious triumph'd o'er our arms.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated need but to be seen;
read more
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As to be hated need but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his read more
See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
