"For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implor'd
Propitious heav'n, and ev'ry pow'r ador'd.
But chiefly Love - to Love an altar built,
Of twelve vast French Romances, neatly gilt.
There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves;
And all the trophies of his former loves.
With tender Billet-doux he lights the pyre,
And breathes three am'rous sighs to raise the fire.
Then prostrate falls and begs with ardent eyes
Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize:
The Pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray'r,
The rest, the winds dispers'd in empty air."
From The Rape of the Lock Alexander Pope
A monthly miscellany from books, art, history and memories, usually with a theme for the 1st of the month. Ceramics and some English worthies are often featured.
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Showing posts with label Alexander Pope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alexander Pope. Show all posts
Monday, 30 June 2014
Saturday, 23 March 2013
Kew Epigram
"I am his Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?"
Engraved on the Collar of a Dog which I gave to his Royal Highness
Alexander Pope
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?"
Engraved on the Collar of a Dog which I gave to his Royal Highness
Alexander Pope
Tuesday, 19 March 2013
"Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?"
"Is there a Parson, much be-mused in beer,
A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer,
A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,
Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross?
Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls
With desperate charcoal round his darken'd walls?
All fly to TWIT'NAM and in humble strain
Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.
Arthur, whose giddy son neglects the laws,
Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause;
Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope,
And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope."
Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot Alexander Pope
A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer,
A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,
Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross?
Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls
With desperate charcoal round his darken'd walls?
All fly to TWIT'NAM and in humble strain
Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.
Arthur, whose giddy son neglects the laws,
Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause;
Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope,
And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope."
Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot Alexander Pope
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Bookworms
"BOOKWORM, s. [from book and worm ]
1 A worm or mite that eats holes in books, chiefly when damp. Guardian.
2 A student too closely given to books; a reader without judgment. Pope. "
A Dictionary of the English Language Samuel Johnson
1 A worm or mite that eats holes in books, chiefly when damp. Guardian.
2 A student too closely given to books; a reader without judgment. Pope. "
A Dictionary of the English Language Samuel Johnson
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