| John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
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| Page 328 |
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| | | Alexander Pope. (16881744) (continued) |
| | | 3537 | Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel? Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel? |
| Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 307. |
| 3538 | Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. |
| Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 315. |
| 3539 | | Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust. |
| Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 333. |
| 3540 | That not in fancys maze he wanderd long, But stoopd to truth, and moralizd his song. 1 |
| Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 340. |
| 3541 | Me let the tender office long engage To rock the cradle of reposing age; With lenient arts extend a mothers breath, Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death; Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep awhile one parent from the sky. |
| Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. Prologue to the Satires. Line 408. |
| 3542 | | Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 6. |
| 3543 | Satire s my weapon, but I m too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 69. |
| 3544 | But touch me, and no minister so sore; Whoeer offends at some unlucky time Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme, Sacred to ridicule his whole life long, And the sad burden of some merry song. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 76. |
| 3545 | | Bare the mean heart that lurks behind a star. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 110. |
| 3546 | There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl, The feast of reason and the flow of soul. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire i. Book ii. Line 127. |
| 3547 | For I, who hold sage Homers rule the best, Welcome the coming, speed the going guest. 2 |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire ii. Book ii. Line 159. |
| 3548 | Give me again my hollow tree, A crust of bread, and liberty. |
| Satires, Epistles, and Odes of Horace. Satire vi. Book ii. Line 220. |
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