|John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.|
|Alexander Pope. (16881744) (continued)|
| How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast!|
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 169.|
| The right divine of kings to govern wrong.|
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 188.|
| Stuff the head|
With all such reading as was never read:
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,
And write about it, goddess, and about it.
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 249.|
| To happy convents bosomd deep in vines,|
Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 301.|
| Led by my hand, he saunterd Europe round,|
And gatherd every vice on Christian ground.
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 311.|
| Judicious drank, and greatly daring dind.|
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 318.|
| Stretchd on the rack of a too easy chair,|
And heard thy everlasting yawn confess
The pains and penalties of idleness.
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 342.|
| Een Palinurus nodded at the helm.|
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 614.|
| Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires,|
And unawares Morality expires.
Nor public flame nor private dares to shine;
Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire Chaos is restord,
Light dies before thy uncreating word;
Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall,
And universal darkness buries all.
| The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 649.|