Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744)
Considered one of the greatest English poets of the eighteenth century.
There, take (says Justice), take ye each a shell:
We thrive at Westminster on fools like you;
'T was a fat oyster,—live in peace,—adieu.
Such were the notes thy once lov'd poet sung,
Till death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue.
Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear.
Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain.
Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!
Each stamps its image as the other flies!
Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take — and sometimes tea.
The stoic husband was the glorious thing.
The man had courage, was a sage, 'tis true,
And lov'd his country.
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever
From the fair head, forever, and forever!
Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.
"Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed" was the ninth beatitude which a man of wit (who, like a man of wit, was a long time in gaol) added to the eighth.
Our passions are like convulsion-fits, which, though they make us stronger for the time, leave us the weaker ever after.
Histories are more full of Examples of the Fidelity of dogs than of Friends.
Nor Fame I slight, nor her favors call;
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd,
But as the world, harmoniously confus'd,
Where order in variety we see,
And where, though all things differ, all agree.