Alexander Pope

(21 May 1688 – 30 May 1744 / London / England)

Alexander Pope Poems

81. Summer 1/3/2003

Comments about Alexander Pope

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    2 person liked.
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  • Darlington Chukwunyere Darlington Chukwunyere (9/5/2011 7:33:00 PM)

    He was a leading poet. Reading his poetry suites my head for his ryhmes are mind blowing and his lines just a summary of the world in an all knowing enscrypted scroll.

    48 person liked.
    50 person did not like.
  • Jon Bayliss (8/8/2011 5:32:00 PM)

    Pope's publisher, James Roberts, died ten years after Pope but his epitaph has been suggested as a work by Pope:
    Let some by heralds blazon'd shine,
    And backwards trace their ancient line;
    From heaps of geld let others raise
    A monument of flatt'ring praise;
    Let others boast their pomp and state,
    Of merit void, ignobly great: ,
    One truth, o'er these remains below
    Inscrib'd, more honour will bestow,
    Than lineage, wealth, or grandeur can;
    ' Here lies interr'd an honest man.'

    65 person liked.
    35 person did not like.
  • Nigel Spellman (2/10/2011 9:42:00 PM)

    The biography is 98% wikipedia. Amusing...

    46 person liked.
    42 person did not like.
  • Dennis Go Dennis Go (12/3/2009 3:35:00 PM)

    I can't believe you haven't include Alexander Pope's 'Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame' into your compilation.

    39 person liked.
    45 person did not like.
Best Poem of Alexander Pope

Eloisa To Abelard

In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love!--From Abelard it came,
And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.

Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand--the name appears
Already ...

Read the full of Eloisa To Abelard

The Riddle Of The World

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A Being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his mind and body to prefer;

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