Alexander Pope Poems
- Ode On Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few ...
- Summer See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! ...
- Sound And Sense True ease in writing comes from art, not ...
- Essay On Man The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1)...
- An Essay On Criticism Part I INTRODUCTION. That it is as ...
- Couplets On Wit I But our Great Turks in wit must reign ...
- Eloisa To Abelard In these deep solitudes and awful cells, ...
Pope was an 18th-century English poet, best known for his satirical verse and for his translation of Homer. He is the third-most frequently quoted writer in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, after Shakespeare and Tennyson. Pope's use of the heroic couplet is famous.
Pope was born in London to Alexander Pope (senior, a linen merchant) and Edith Pope (née Turner), who were both Catholics. Pope's education was affected by the penal law in force at the time upholding the status of the established Church of England, which banned Catholics from teaching on pain of perpetual imprisonment. Pope was taught to read by his aunt, then went to Twyford ... more »
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''So vast is art, so narrow human wit.''Alexander Pope (1688-1744), British poet. Essay on Criticism (Fr. I). . . Poetical Works [Alexander Pope]. Herbert Davis, ed. (1978; repr. 1990) O...
''For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.''Alexander Pope (1688-1744), British poet. Essay on Criticism (Fr. III). . . Poetical Works [Alexander Pope]. Herbert Davis, ed. (1978; repr. 1990)...
''Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.''Alexander Pope (1688-1744), British satirical poet. An Essay on Criticism, l. 625 (1711).
''The worst of madmen is a saint run mad.''Alexander Pope (1688-1744), British satirical poet. Imitations of Horace, bk. 1, epistle 6, "To Mr. Murray," l. 27 (1738).
''An honest man's the noblest work of God.''Alexander Pope (1688-1744), British poet. An Essay on Man (Fr. Epistle IV). SeCePo. Poetical Works [Alexander Pope]. Herbert Davis, ed. (1978; rep...
Ode On Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet ...