In Imitation of E. of Rochester : On Silence poem – Alexander Pope

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period

I.

Silence! coeval with Eternity;

Thou wert, ere Nature’s-self began to be,

‘Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee.

II.

Thine was the sway, ere heav’n was form’d, or earth,

Ere fruitful Thought conceiv’d creation’s birth,

Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.

III.

Then various elements, against thee join’d,

In one more various animal combin’d,

And fam’d the clam’rous race of busy Human-kind.

IV.

The tongue mov’d gently first, and speech was low,

‘Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show,

And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

V.

But rebel Wit deserts thee oft’ in vain;

Lost in the maze of words he turns again,

And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

VI.

Afflicted Sense thou kindly dost set free,

Oppress’d with argumental tyranny,

And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

VII.

With thee in private modest Dulness lies,

And in thy bosom lurks in Thought’s disguise;

Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wise!

VIII.

Yet thy indulgence is by both confest;

Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,

And ’tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest.

IX.

Silence the knave’s repute, the whore’s good name,

The only honour of the wishing dame;

Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of Fame.

X.

But could’st thou seize some tongues that now are free,

How Church and State should be oblig’d to thee!

At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would’st thou be!

XI.

Yet speech ev’n there, submissively withdraws,

From rights of subjects, and the poor man’s cause:

Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy Laws.

XII.

Past services of friends, good deeds of foes,

What Fav’rites gain, and what the Nation owes,

Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

XIII.

The country wit, religion of the town,

The courtier’s learning, policy o’ th’ gown,

Are best by thee express’d; and shine in thee alone.

XIV.

The parson’s cant, the lawyer’s sophistry,

Lord’s quibble, critic’s jest; all end in thee,

All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

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Poems in English 

• Федор Сологуб – В лес пришла пастушка by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В камине пылания много by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В иных веках, в иной отчизне by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В этот час by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В его саду растет рябина by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Терцинами писать как будто очень трудно by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Тепло мне потому, что мой уютный дом by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Тень решётки прочной by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Там, внизу, костры горели by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Так же внятен мне, как прежде by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Так нежен был внезапный поцелуй by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Святых имен твоих не знаю by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Своеволием рока by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Светлый пир by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Светлый дом мой всё выше by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Сверкайте, миги строгих дней by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Солнце, которому больно by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Собака седого короля by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Снова саваны надели by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Снежное поле бесшумно by Фёдор Сологуб

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