In Imitation of Cowley : The Garden poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) Fain would my Muse the flow’ry Treasures sing, And humble glories of the youthful Spring; Where opening Roses breathing sweets diffuse, And soft Carnations show’r their balmy dews; Where Lilies smile in virgin robes of white, The thin Undress of superficial Light, And vary’d Tulips show so dazzling […]

In Imitation of Chaucer poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) Women ben full of Ragerie, Yet swinken not sans secresie. Thilke Moral shall ye understond, From Schoole-boy’s Tale of fayre Irelond: Which to the Fennes hath him betake, To filch the gray Ducke fro the Lake. Right then, there passen by the Way His Aunt, and eke her […]

Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like […]

From an Essay on Man poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) Heav’n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib’d, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and […]

Essay on Man poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let us (since Life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate(2) free o’er all this scene of Man; A mighty maze! but […]

Eloisa to Abelard poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav’nly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in a vestal’s veins? Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat? Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat? Yet, yet I love!–From Abelard it came, And Eloisa yet must […]

Chorus of Youths and Virgins poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) Semichorus. Oh Tyrant Love! hast thou possest The prudent, learn’d, and virtuous breast? Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim, And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame. Love, soft intruder, enters here, But ent’ring learns to be sincere. Marcus with blushes owns he loves, And Brutus tenderly […]

Chorus of Athenians poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) Strophe I. Ye shades, where sacred truth is sought; Groves, where immortal Sages taught; Where heav’nly visions of Plato fir’d, And Epicurus lay inspir’d! In vain your guiltless laurels stood Unspotted long with human blood. War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades, And steel now glitters in the […]

Argus poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) When wise Ulysses, from his native coast Long kept by wars, and long by tempests toss’d, Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone, To all his friends, and ev’n his Queen unknown, Changed as he was, with age, and toils, and cares, Furrow’d his rev’rend face, and white his […]

An Essay On Criticism poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) ‘Tis hard to say, if greater Want of Skill Appear in Writing or in Judging ill, But, of the two, less dang’rous is th’ Offence, To tire our Patience, than mis-lead our Sense: Some few in that, but Numbers err in this, Ten Censure wrong for one who Writes […]

An Essay on Man: Epistle II poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) I. Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man. Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the sceptic side, With too much weakness for the stoic’s pride, He […]

A Supplication

Awake, awake, my Lyre! And tell thy silent master’s humble tale In sounds that may prevail; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire: Though so exalted she And I so lowly be Tell her, such different notes make all thy harmony. Hark, how the strings awake! And, though the moving hand approach not near, Themselves with […]

Written Juice Lemon

Whilst what I write I do not see, I dare thus, ev’n to you, write poetry. Ah, foolish Muse! which dost so high aspire, And know’st her judgment well, How much it does thy power excel, Yet dar’st be read by, thy just doom, the fire. Alas! thou think’st thyself secure, Because thy form […]

Written In Juice Of Lemon

Whilst what I write I do not see, I dare thus, ev’n to you, write poetry. Ah, foolish Muse! which dost so high aspire, And know’st her judgment well, How much it does thy power excel, Yet dar’st be read by, thy just doom, the fire. Alas! thou think’st thyself secure, Because thy form […]

Wit

TELL me, O tell, what kind of thing is Wit, Thou who Master art of it. For the First matter loves Variety less ; Less Women love ‘t, either in Love or Dress. A thousand different shapes it bears, Comely in thousand shapes appears. Yonder we saw it plain ; and here ’tis now, […]

Welcome

Go, let the fatted calf be kill’d; My prodigal’s come home at last, With noble resolutions fill’d, And fill’d with sorrow for the past: No more will burn with love or wine; But quite has left his women and his swine. Welcome, ah! welcome, my poor heart! Welcome! I little thought, I’ll swear (‘T […]

Vote Excerpt

……… This only grant me : that my means may lie Too low for envy, for contempt too high. Some honour I would have, Not from great deeds, but good alone ; Th’ ignote are better than ill-known, Rumor can ope the grave. Acquaintance I would hug, but when ‘t depends Not from the […]

Usurpation

Thou ‘adst to my soul no title or pretence; I was mine own, and free, Till I had given myself to thee; But thou hast kept me slave and prisoner since. Well, since so insolent thou ‘rt grown, Fond tyrant! I’ll depose thee from thy throne; Such outrages must not admitted be In an […]

Tree Knowledge

THAT THERE IS NO KNOWLEDGE. Against the Dogmatists. THE sacred tree ‘midst the fair orchard grew; The Phoenix truth did on it rest, And built his perfum’d nest; That right Porphyrian tree which did true Logick shew, Each leaf did learned notions give, And th’ apples were demonstrative; So clear their colour and divine, […]

To The Royal Society

I. Philosophy the great and only heir Of all that human knowledge which has bin Unforfeited by man’s rebellious sin, Though full of years he do appear, (Philosophy, I say, and call it, he, For whatso’ere the painter’s fancy be, It a male-virtue seems to me) Has still been kept in nonage till of […]

To The Lord Falkland

FOR HIS SAFE RETURN FROM THE NORTHERN EXPEDITION AGAINST THE SCOTS. Great is thy Charge, O North! be wise and just, England commits her Falkland to thy trust; Return him safe; Learning would rather choose Her Bodley or her Vatican to lose: All things that are but writ or printed there, In his unbounded […]

To Sir William Davenant

UPON HIS TWO FIRST BOOKS OF GONDIBERT FINISHED BEFORE HIS VOYAGE TO AMERICA. METHINKS heroick poesy till now, Like some fantastick fairy-land did show; Gods, devils, nymphs, witches and giants’ race, And all but man, in man’s chief work had place. Thou, like some worthy knight with sacred arms, Dost drive the monsters thence, […]

Thisbes Song

Come, love, why stay’st thou? The night Will vanish ere wee taste delight. The moone obscures her selfe from sight, Thou absent, whose eyes give her light. Come quickly deare, be briefe as time, Or we by morne shall be o’retane, Love’s Joy’s thing owne as well as mine, Spend not therefore, time in […]

The Wish

Well then; I now do plainly see This busy world and I shall ne’er agree. The very honey of all earthly joy Does of all meats the soonest cloy; And they (methinks) deserve my pity Who for it can endure the stings, The crowd, and buzz, and murmurings Of this great hive, the city. […]