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Women, As They Are Like Riddles In Being Unintelligible, So Generally Resemble Them In This, That They Please Us No Longer Once We Know Them.

-Alexander Pope

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Women, As They Are

Alexander Pope

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Women, As They Are Like Riddles In Being Unintelligible, So Generally Resemble Them In This, That They Please Us No Longer Once We Know Them.

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Behold The Groves That Shine With Silver Frost, Their Beauty Withered, And Their Verdure Lost!

Wretches Hang That Jurymen May Dine.

By Music Minds An Equal Temper Know, Nor Swell Too High, Nor Sink Too Low. . . . . Warriors She Fires With Animated Sounds. Pours Balm Into The Bleeding Lover's Wounds.

Heav'n First Taught Letters For Some Wretch's Aid, Some Banish'd Lover, Or Some Captive Maid.

Never Was It Given To Mortal Man - To Lie So Boldly As We Women Can.

Sole Judge Of Truth, In Endless Error Hurled: / The Glory, Jest, And Riddle Of The World!

Homer Excels All The Inventors Of Other Arts In This: That He Has Swallowed Up The Honor Of Those Who Succeeded Him.

Court-virtues Bear, Like Gems, The Highest Rate, Born Where Heav'n Influence Scarce Can Penetrate. In Life's Low Vale, The Soil The Virtues Like, They Please As Beauties, Here As Wonders Strike.

To What Base Ends, And By What Abject Ways, Are Mortals Urg'd Through Sacred Lust Of Praise!

Dear Fatal Name! Rest Ever Unreveal'd, Nor Pass These Lips In Holy Silence Seal'd. Hide It, My Heart, Within That Close Disguise, Where Mixed With Gods, His Lov'd Idea Lies: O Write It Not, My Hand - The Name Appears Already Written - Wash It Out, My Tears! In Vain Lost Eloisa Weeps And Prays, Her Heart Still Dictates, And Her Hand Obeyes.

Reason, However Able, Cool At Best, Cares Not For Service, Or But Serves When Prest, Stays Till We Call, And Then Not Often Near.

Oh, Blindness To The Future! Kindly Giv'n, That Each May Fill The Circle Mark'd By Heaven.

Know Then This Truth, Enough For Man To Know Virtue Alone Is Happiness Below.

[t]hro This Air, This Ocean, And This Earth, All Nature Quick, And Bursting Into Birth. Above, How High Progressive Life May Go? Around How Wide? How Deep Extend Below? Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Ethereal Essence, Spirit, Substance, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect! What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach! From Infinite To Thee! From Thee To Nothing.... From Natures Chain Whatever Link You Strike, Tenth, Or Ten Thousandth, Breaks The Chain Alike.... All Are But Parts Of One Stupendous Whole: Whose Body Nature Is, And God The Soul.

Cavil You May, But Never Criticise.

Lulled In The Countless Chambers Of The Brain, Our Thoughts Are Linked By Many A Hidden Chain; Awake But One, And In, What Myriads Rise!

You Beat Your Pate, And Fancy Wit Will Come: Knock As You Please, There's No Body At Home.

What Is It To Be Wise? 'tis But To Know How Little Can Be Known, To See All Others' Faults, And Feel Our Own.

All Nature Mourns, The Skies Relent In Showers; Hushed Are The Birds, And Closed The Drooping Flowers.

Sometimes Virtue Starves While Vice Is Fed.

Never Elated While One Man's Oppress'd; Never Dejected While Another's Blessed.

He Knows To Live Who Keeps The Middle State, And Neither Leans On This Side Nor On That.

Know Then Thyself, Presume Not God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Nature And Nature's Laws Lay Hid In The Night. God Said, Let Newton Be! And All Was Light!

A Fly, A Grape-stone, Or A Hair Can Kill.

Words Are Like Leaves; And Where They Most Abound, Much Fruit Of Sense Beneath Is Rarely Found.

The Dances Ended, All The Fairy Train For Pinks And Daisies Search'd The Flow'ry Plain.

All Nature Is But Art, Unknown To Thee All Chance, Direction, Which Thou Canst Not See; All Discord, Harmony Not Understood; All Partial Evil, Universal Good.

By Flatterers Besieged And So Obliging That He Ne'er Obliged.

The Greatest Magnifying Glasses In The World Are A Man's Own Eyes When They Look Upon His Own Person.

Others Import Yet Nobler Arts From France, Teach Kings To Fiddle, And Make Senates Dance.

For When Success A Lover's Toil Attends,few Ask, If Fraud Or Force Attain'd His Ends

In Every Work Regard The Writer's End, Since None Can Compass More Than They Intend.

Learn Of The Little Nautilus To Sail, Spread The Thin Oar, And Catch The Driving Gale.

Seas Roll To Waft Me, Suns To Light Me Rise; My Footstool Earth, My Canopy The Skies.

I Would Not Be Like Those Authors, Who Forgive Themselves Some Particular Lines For The Sake Of A Whole Poem, And Vice Versa A Whole Poem For The Sake Of Some Particular Lines. I Believe No One Qualification Is So Likely To Make A Good Writer, As The Power Of Rejecting His Own Thoughts.

Gentle Dullness Ever Loves A Joke.

True Friendship's Laws Are By This Rule Express'd, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Parting Guest.

True Disputants Are Like True Sportsmen: Their Whole Delight Is In The Pursuit.

Fortune In Men Has Some Small Diff'rence Made, One Flaunts In Rags, One Flutters In Brocade, The Cobbler Apron'd, And The Parson Gown'd, The Friar Hooded, And The Monarch Crown'd.

For What I Have Publish'd, I Can Only Hope To Be Pardon'd; But For What I Have Burned, I Deserve To Be Prais'd.

Some Praise At Morning What They Blame At Night, But Always Think The Last Opinion Right.

The Lot Of Man - To Suffer And To Die.

Talk What You Will Of Taste, My Friend, You'll Find Two Of A Face As Soon As Of A Mind.

A Brave Man Struggling In The Storms Of Fate, And Greatly Falling With A Falling State.

There Goes A Saying, And 'twas Shrewdly Said, ''old Fish At Table, But Young Flesh In Bed.

Where Beams Of Imagination Play, The Memory's Soft Figures Melt Away.

Why Did I Write? Whose Sin To Me Unknown Dipt Me In Ink, My Parents', Or My Own? As Yet A Child, Nor Yet A Fool To Fame, I Lisp'd In Numbers, For The Numbers Came.

The Difference Is Too Nice - Where Ends The Virtue Or Begins The Vice.

True Politeness Consists In Being Easy One's Self, And In Making Every One About One As Easy As One Can.

Why Did I Write? What Sin To Me Unknown Dipped Me In Ink, My Parents , Or My Own?

For Lo! The Board With Cups And Spoons Is Crowned.the Berries Crackle, And The Mill Turns Round ... At Once They Gratify Their Scent And Taste.and Frequent Cups Prolong The Rich Repast... Coffee (which Makes The Politician Wise And See Through All Things With His Half-shut Eyes).

A Tree Is A Nobler Object Than A Prince In His Coronation-robes.

Wit Is The Lowest Form Of Humor.

Whether The Charmer Sinner It, Or Saint It, If Folly Grow Romantic, I Must Paint It.

Where Grows?--where Grows It Not? If Vain Our Toil, We Ought To Blame The Culture, Not The Soil.

But Those Who Cannot Write, And Those Who Can, All Rhyme, And Scrawl, And Scribble, To A Man.

Only Music Has The Ability To Take You To The Edge Of Reality And Allow You To Peek In For A Moment.

A Saint In Crape Is Twice A Saint In Lawn.

The Nicest Constitutions Of Government Are Often Like The Finest Pieces Of Clock-work, Which, Depending On So Many Motions, Are Therefore More Subject To Be Out Of Order.

Some Men's Wit Is Like A Dark Lantern, Which Serves Their Own Turn And Guides Them Their Own Way, But Is Never Known (according To The Scripture Phrase) Either To Shine Forth Before Men, Or To Glorify Their Father In Heaven.

For Critics, As They Are Birds Of Prey, Have Ever A Natural Inclination To Carrion.

Men, Some To Business, Some To Pleasure Take; But Every Woman Is At Heart A Rake.

Fly, Dotard, Fly! With Thy Wise Dreams And Fables Of The Sky.

For Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife, Though Meant Each Other's Aid, Like Man And Wife.

No, Make Me Mistress To The Man I Love; If There Be Yet Another Name More Free More Fond Than Mistress, Make Me That To Thee!

Fame, Wealth, And Honour! What Are You To Love?

Virtue She Finds Too Painful An Endeavour, Content To Dwell In Decencies For Ever.

Content If Hence Th' Unlearn'd Their Wants May View, The Learn'd Reflect On What Before They Knew.

I Lose My Patience, And I Own It Too, When Works Are Censur'd, Not As Bad But New; While If Our Elders Break All Reason's Laws, These Fools Demand Not Pardon But Applause.

A Generous Friendship No Cold Medium Knows, Burns With One Love, With One Resentment Glows.

Virtue May Choose The High Or Low Degree, 'tis Just Alike To Virtue, And To Me; Dwell In A Monk, Or Light Upon A King, She's Still The Same Belov'd, Contented Thing.

Chaste To Her Husband, Frank To All Beside, A Teeming Mistress, But A Barren Bride.

Learn From The Birds What Food The Thickets Yield; Learn From The Beasts The Physic Of The Field; The Arts Of Building From The Bee Receive; Learn Of The Mole To Plow, The Worm To Weave.

To Teach Vain Wits That Science Little Known, T' Admire Superior Sense, And Doubt Their Own!

Know, Nature's Children All Divide Her Care, The Fur That Warms A Monarch Warmed A Bear.

Is There A Parson Much Bemused In Beer, A Maudlin Poetess, A Rhyming Peer, A Clerk Foredoom'd His Father's Soul To Cross, Who Pens A Stanza When He Should Engross?

Good God! How Often Are We To Die Before We Go Quite Off This Stage? In Every Friend We Lose A Part Of Ourselves, And The Best Part.

Cursed Be The Verse, How Well So E'er It Flow, That Tends To Make One Worthy Man My Foe.

The Hog That Ploughs Not, Not Obeys Thy Call, Lives On The Labours Of This Lord Of All.

Not To Go Back Is Somewhat To Advance, And Men Must Walk, At Least, Before They Dance.

How Shall I Lose The Sin, Yet Keep The Sense, And Love The Offender, Yet Detest The Offence?

Our Passions Are Like Convulsion Fits, Which, Though They Make Us Stronger For A Time, Leave Us The Weaker Ever After.

What Can Ennoble Sots, Or Slaves, Or Cowards? Alas! Not All The Blood, Of All The Howards.

Blest Paper-credit! Last And Best Supply! That Lends Corruption Lighter Wings To Fly!

The World Is A Thing We Must Of Necessity Either Laugh At Or Be Angry At; If We Laugh At It, They Say We Are Proud; If We Are Angry At It, They Say We Are Ill-natured.

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.

A Person Who Is Too Nice An Observer Of The Business Of The Crowd, Like One Who Is Too Curious In Observing The Labor Of Bees, Will Often Be Stung For His Curiosity.

For Forms Of Government Let Fools Contest; Whate'er Is Best Administer'd Is Best. For Modes Of Faith Let Graceless Zealots Fight; His Can't Be Wrong Whose Life Is In The Right. In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

Who Pants For Glory, Finds But Short Repose; A Breath Revives Him, Or A Breath O'erthrows.

All Are But Parts Of One Stupendous Whole, Whose Body Nature Is, And God The Soul.

Praise Undeserved, Is Satire In Disguise.

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.

The Vanity Of Human Life Is Like A River, Constantly Passing Away, And Yet Constantly Coming On.

Search Then The Ruling Passion: This Clue, Once Found, Unravels All The Rest.

Like Cato, Give His Little Senate Laws, And Sit Attentive To His Own Applause.

Good-humor Only Teaches Charms To Last, Still Makes New Conquests And Maintains The Past.

Some People Will Never Learn Anything, For This Reason, Because They Understand Everything Too Soon.

How Glowing Guilt Exalts The Keen Delight!

Is It, In Heav'n, A Crime To Love Too Well? To Bear Too Tender Or Too Firm A Heart, To Act A Lover's Or A Roman's Part? Is There No Bright Reversion In The Sky For Those Who Greatly Think, Or Bravely Die?

Truth Shines The Brighter, Clad In Verse.

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

But See, The Shepherds Shun The Noonday Heat, The Lowing Herds To Murmuring Brooks Retreat, To Closer Shades The Panting Flocks Remove; Ye Gods! And Is There No Relief For Love?

The Scripture In Times Of Disputes Is Like An Open Town In Times Of War, Which Serves In Differently The Occasions Of Both Parties.

There Are Certain Times When Most People Are In A Disposition Of Being Informed, And 'tis Incredible What A Vast Good A Little Truth Might Do, Spoken In Such Seasons.

Fools Admire, But Men Of Sense Approve.

Music Resembles Poetry, In Each Are Nameless Graces Which No Methods Teach, And Which A Master Hand Alone Can Reach.

The Flower's Are Gone When The Fruits Appear To Ripen.

And You, My Critics! In The Chequer'd Shade, Admire New Light Thro' Holes Yourselves Have Made.

Honor And Shame From No Condition Rise. Act Well Your Part: There All The Honor Lies.

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Occupy Yourself

At Present We Can Only Reason Of The Divine Justice From What We Know Of Justice In Man. When We Are In Other Scenes, We May Have Truer And Nobler Ideas Of It; But While We Are In This Life, We Can Only Speak From The Volume That Is Laid Open Before Us.

Order Is Heaven's First Law; And This Confess, Some Are And Must Be Greater Than The Rest.

Tis All In Vain To Keep A Constant Pother About One Vice And Fall Into Another.

Nothing Can Be More Shocking And Horrid Than One Of Our Kitchens Sprinkled With Blood, And Abounding With The Cries Of Expiring Victims Or With The Limbs Of Dead Animals Scattered Or Hung Up Here And There.

Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near The Throne.

What Nothing Earthly Gives, Or Can Destroy, The Soul's Calm Sunshine, And The Heart-felt Joy, Is Virtue's Prize.

This Long Disease, My Life.

And Little Eagles Wave Their Wings In Gold.

Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Most Fond Of Nature: As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature.

Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

The Zeal Of Fools Offends At Any Time.

What Tully Said Of War May Be Applied To Disputing: "it Should Be Always So Managed As To Remember That The Only True End Of It Is Peace." But Generally True Disputants Are Like True Sportsmen,--their Whole Delight Is In The Pursuit; And The Disputant No More Cares For The Truth Than The Sportsman For The Hare.

In The Nice Bee, What Sense So Subtly True From Pois'nous Herbs Extracts The Healing Dew?

Heav'n From All Creatures Hides The Book Of Fate, All But The Page Prescribed, Their Present State: From Brutes What Men, From Men What Spirits Know: Or Who Could Suffer Being Here Below?

Consult The Genius Of The Place, That Paints As You Plant, And As You Work.

To Wake The Soul By Tender Strokes Of Art, To Raise The Genius, And To Mend The Heart; To Make Mankind, In Conscious Virtue Bold, Live O'er Each Seene, And Be What They Behold: For This The Tragic Muse First Trod The Stage.

Be Thou The First True Merit To Befriend, His Praise Is Lost Who Stays Till All Commend.

But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company.

Praise From A Friend, Or Censure From A Foe, Are Lost On Hearers That Our Merits Know.

For He Lives Twice Who Can At Once Employ, The Present Well, And E'en The Past Enjoy.

Time Management

But Blind To Former As To Future Fate, What Mortal Knows His Pre-existent State?

Our Judgments, Like Our Watches, None Go Just Alike, Yet Each Believes His Own

For I, Who Hold Sage Homer's Rule The Best, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Going Guest.

Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

Go, Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.

Nothing Is More Certain Than Much Of The Force; As Well As Grace, Of Arguments Or Instructions Depends Their Conciseness.

Of Fight Or Fly, This Choice Is Left Ye, To Resist Or Die.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Deep, Or Taste Not The Pierian Spring.

Some Judge Of Authors' Names, Not Works, And Then Nor Praise Nor Blame The Writings, But The Men.

Amusement Is The Happiness Of Those Who Cannot Think.

Pleased To The Last, He Crops The Flowery Food, And Licks The Hand Just Raised To Shed His Blood.

Taste, That Eternal Wanderer, Which Flies From Head To Ears, And Now From Ears To Eyes.

The Man That Loves And Laughs Must Sure Do Well.

Man, Like The Generous Vine, Supported Lives; The Strength He Gains Is From The Embrace He Gives.

All Looks Yellow To The Jaundiced Eye. [and Therefore The Solution Is To Fix The Jaundiced Eye.]

Fair Tresses Man's Imperial Race Ensnare; And Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.

Did Some More Sober Critics Come Abroad? If Wrong, I Smil'd; If Right, I Kiss'd The Rod.

Pleas'd Look Forward, Pleas'd To Look Behind,and Count Each Birthday With A Grateful Mind.

On Wrongs Swift Vengeance Waits.

Nay, Fly To Altars; There They'll Talk You Dead; For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.

It Is Not So Much The Being Exempt From Faults, As Having Overcome Them, That Is An Advantage To Us.

Do Good By Stealth, And Blush To Find It Fame.

What Is Fame? A Fancied Life In Others' Breath.

What's Fame? A Fancy'd Life In Other's Breath. A Thing Beyond Us, Even Before Our Death.

The Character Of Covetousness, Is What A Man Generally Acquires More Through Some Niggardliness Or Ill Grace In Little And Inconsiderable Things, Than In Expenses Of Any Consequence.

The Sound Must Seem An Echo To The Sense.

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law, Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw; Some Livelier Plaything Gives His Youth Delight, A Little Louder, But As Empty Quite; Scarfs, Garters, Gold, Amuse His Riper Stage, And Beads And Prayer-books Are The Toys Of Age. Pleased With This Bauble Still, As That Before, Till Tired He Sleeps, And Life's Poor Play Is O'er.

Most Women Have No Characters At All.

No One Should Be Ashamed To Admit They Are Wrong, Which Is But Saying, In Other Words, That They Are Wiser Today Than They Were Yesterday.

The People's Voice Is Odd, It Is, And It Is Not, The Voice Of God.

It Is Sure The Hardest Science To Forget!

Who Dies In Youth And Vigour, Dies The Best.

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

Of Darkness Visible So Much Be Lent, As Half To Show, Half Veil, The Deep Intent.

While Man Exclaims, "see All Things For My Use!" "see Man For Mine!" Replies A Pamper'd Goose.

What Bosom Beast Not In His Country's Cause?

If A Man's Character Is To Be Abused There's Nobody Like A Relative To Do The Business.

In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

For Forms Of Government, Let Fools Contest; Whate'er Is Best Administered, Is Best.

Worth Makes The Man, And Want Of It The Fellow; The Rest Is All But Leather And Prunello.

In Men, We Various Ruling Passions Find; In Women, Two Almost Divide The Kind Those, Only Fixed, They First Or Last Obey, The Love Of Pleasure, And The Love Of Sway.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

Satire Or Sense, Alas! Can Sporus Feel? Who Breaks A Butterfly Upon A Wheel?

Of All Affliction Taught A Lover Yet, 'tis True The Hardest Science To Forget.

Beauties In Vain Their Pretty Eyes May Roll; Charms Strike The Sight, But Merit Wins The Soul.

Ambition First Sprung From Your Blest Abodes: The Glorious Fault Of Angels And Of Gods.

Ah! Why, Ye Gods, Should Two And Two Make Four?

Chiefs Who No More In Bloody Fights Engage, But Wise Through Time, And Narrative With Age, In Summer-days Like Grasshoppers Rejoice - A Bloodless Race, That Send A Feeble Voice.

Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Natures Ethereal, Human, Angel, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect, What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach, From Infinite To Thee, From Thee To Nothing.

I Am His Highness' Dog At Kew; Pray Tell Me, Sir, Whose Dog Are You?

Then Sculpture And Her Sister Arts Revived; Stones Leaped To Form, And Rocks Began To Live.

Hope Springs Eternal In The Human Breast; Man Never Is, But Always To Be Blest. The Soul, Uneasy, And Confin'd From Home, Rest And Expatiates In A Life To Come. Lo, The Poor Indian! Whose Untutor'd Mind Sees God In Clouds, Or Hears Him In The Wind; His Soul Proud Science Never Taught To Stray Far As The Solar Walk Or Milky Way; Yet Simple Nature To His Hope Has Giv'n, Behind The Cloud-topp'd Hill, An Humbler Heav'n.

From Nature's Chain Whatever Link You Strike, Tenth Or Ten Thousandth, Breaks The Chain Alike.

A Wit With Dunces, And A Dunce With Wits.

I Was Not Born For Courts And Great Affairs, But I Pay My Debts, Believe And Say My Prayers.

Authors, Like Coins, Grow Dear As They Grow Old.

There Is A Certain Majesty In Simplicity Which Is Far Above All The Quaintness Of Wit.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be.

See The Wild Waste Of All-devouring Years! How Rome Her Own Sad Sepulchre Appears, With Nodding Arches, Broken Temples Spread! The Very Tombs Now Vanish'd Like Their Dead!

Nor Fame I Slight, Nor For Her Favors Call; She Comes Unlooked For, If She Comes At All .

To Wake The Soul By Tender Strokes Of Art, To Raise The Genius, And To Mend The Heart

As The Twig Is Bent, So Grows The Tree.

The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind! Each Pray'r Accepted, And Each Wish Resign'd

Strength Of Mind Is Exercise, Not Rest.

The Season When To Come, And When To Go, To Sing, Or Cease To Sing, We Never Know.

Th' Unwilling Gratitude Of Base Mankind!

I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

Genius Creates, And Taste Preserves.

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