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abuse admire ancient appear arts Behold bring called cause Chaos character clouds complete court critics Curl divine Dryden dull Dulness dunce Dunciad edition empire epic ev'ry eyes face fall fire fool friends gave give goddess gods grace greater half hand happy hath head hero heroic Homer honour hundred Journal king known land learned less letters light lines living lord manner moral muse nature never Night o'er once person piece plays poem poet Pope printed published queen race reason reign REMARKS rest rise roll round sense shows sleep sons soon soul stand sure Swift thee things thou thought throne translated true turn verse Virgil virtue whole wings wonders writ writing youth
Página 129 - Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, CHAOS! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.
Página 129 - Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence, And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! See Mystery to Mathematics fly! In vain ! they gaze, turn giddy, rave and die.
Página 102 - The moon-struck prophet felt the madding hour : Then rose the seed of Chaos, and of Night, To blot out order, and extinguish light, Of dull and venal a new world to mould, And bring Saturnian days of lead and gold.
Página 108 - Muse gave o'er, There Talbot sunk, and was a wit no more ! How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast! How many Martials were in Pulteney lost!
Página 54 - There motley Images her fancy strike, Figures ill pair'd, and Similies unlike. She sees a Mob of Metaphors advance, Pleas'd with the madness of the mazy dance: How Tragedy and Comedy embrace; How Farce and Epic get a jumbled race; How Time himself stands still at her command, Realms shift their place, and Ocean turns to land.
Página 122 - On plain experience lay foundations low, By common sense to common knowledge bred, And last, to nature's cause through nature led. All-seeing in thy mists, we want no guide, Mother of arrogance, and source of pride! 470 We nobly take the high priori road, And reason downward, till we doubt of God...
Página 59 - Round him much embryo, much abortion lay, Much future ode, and abdicated play...
Página 67 - And here she plann'd th' imperial seat of fools. Here to her chosen all her works she shows, Prose swell'd to verse, verse loitering into prose : How random thoughts now meaning chance to find. Now leave all memory of sense behind : How prologues into prefaces decay, And these to notes are fritter'd quite away : How index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of science by the tail...