A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period
As some fond virgin, whom her mother’s care
Drags from the town to wholesome country air,
Just when she learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;
From the dear man unwilling she must sever,
Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever:
Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew,
Saw others happy, and with sighs withdrew;
Not that their pleasures caused her discontent,
She sigh’d not that they staid, but that she went.
She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion’d halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks:
She went from opera, park, assembly, play,
To morning-walks, and prayers three hours a-day:
To part her time ‘twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea;
Or o’er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell stories to the ‘squire;
Up to her godly garret after seven,
There starve and pray, for that’s the way to heaven.
Some ‘squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack;
Whose game is whist, whose treat, a toast in sack;
Who visits with a gun, presents you birds,
Then gives a smacking buss, and cries–No words!
Or with his hound comes hallooing from the stable,
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table;
Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are coarse,
And loves you best of all things–but his horse.
In some fair evening, on your elbow laid,
You dream of triumphs in the rural shade;
In pensive thought recall the fancied scene,
See coronations rise on every green;
Before you pass the imaginary sights
Of lords, and earls, and dukes, and garter’d knights,
While the spread fan o’ershades your closing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls!
So when your slave, at some dear idle time,
(Not plagued with headaches, or the want of rhyme)
Stands in the streets, abstracted from the crew,
And while he seems to study, thinks of you;
Just when his fancy paints your sprightly eyes,
Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rise,
Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite,
Streets, chairs, and coxcombs rush upon my sight;
Vex’d to be still in town, I knit my brow,
Look sour, and hum a tune, as you do now.
A few random poems:
- Myself
- Irony poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Morning Song by Sylvia Plath
- Hymn To Death poem – Alfred Austin
- The Beach by Weldon Kees
- Юнна Мориц – Страна вагонная, вагонное терпенье
- Николай Заболоцкий – Зеленый луч
- Федор Тютчев – К портрету государственного канцлера, князя А.М. Горчакова
- Fancy
- The Colloquy Beneath by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- Creativity in America and How Italians Can Learn From American Ingenuity
- good bye, my sweet angel by Raj Arumugam
- An Evening in the Mountains by Wang Wei
- Eclogue:–The Veäiries by William Barnes
- Song—Stay my Charmer by Robert Burns
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Robert Burns: Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard:
- Robert Burns: Death and Doctor Hornbook : A True Story
- Robert Burns: Tarbolton Lasses, The:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On Holy Willie:
- Robert Burns: Holy Willie’s Prayer: “And send the godly in a pet to pray.” – Pope.
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet:
- Robert Burns: The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie: An Unco Mournfu’ Tale
- Robert Burns: Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge:
- Robert Burns: Lines On The Author’s Death: Written With The Supposed View Of Being Handed To Rankine After The Poet’s Interment
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Rankine:
- Robert Burns: On Tam The Chapman:
- Robert Burns: Another [Epigram On The Said Occasion… On A Henpecked Country Squire]:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On The Said Occasion [On A Henpecked Country Squire]:
- Robert Burns: Tragic Fragment:
- Robert Burns: On A Henpecked Country Squire:
- Robert Burns: On A Noisy Polemic:
- Robert Burns: The Belles Of Mauchline:
- Robert Burns: My Girl She’s Airy: Fragment
- Robert Burns: The Mauchline Lady: Fragment
- Robert Burns: O Leave Novels:
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
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Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744) was a a post-Restoration English poet and satirist. He is a poet of the (British) Augustan period and one of its greatest artistic exponents.