Most strength the moving principle requires;. Active its task, it prompts, impels, inspires. Form'd but to check, delib'rate, and advise. Self-love still stronger, as its objects nigh;. At best more watchful this, but that more strong. Each strengthens reason, and self-love restrains.
Let subtle schoolmen teach these friends to fight,. And grace and virtue, sense and reason split,. This taste the honey, and not wound the flow'r:. Modes of self-love the passions we may call:. Passions, though selfish, if their means be fair,. Exalt their kind, and take some virtue's name. Their virtue fix'd, 'tis fix'd as in a frost;.
Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole. He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind. Passions, like elements, though born to fight,. Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling train,. These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd,. The lights and shades, whose well accorded strife. Gives all the strength and colour of our life.
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- Pope's Poems and Prose Summary and Analysis of An Essay on Man: Epistle I?
Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes,. And when in act they cease, in prospect, rise:. All spread their charms, but charm not all alike;.
An Essay on Man: Epistle II | Representative Poetry Online
On diff'rent senses diff'rent objects strike;. Hence diff'rent passions more or less inflame,. As man, perhaps, the moment of his breath,. The young disease, that must subdue at length,. Grows with his growth, and strengthens with his strength:. The mind's disease, its ruling passion came;. Each vital humour which should feed the whole,. Whatever warms the heart, or fills the head,. As the mind opens, and its functions spread,. As Heav'n's blest beam turns vinegar more sour.
We, wretched subjects, though to lawful sway,. In this weak queen some fav'rite still obey:. What can she more than tell us we are fools? She but removes weak passions for the strong:.
Yes, nature's road must ever be preferr'd;. And treat this passion more as friend than foe:. A mightier pow'r the strong direction sends,. Like varying winds, by other passions toss'd,.
This drives them constant to a certain coast. Let pow'r or knowledge, gold or glory, please,. Keats, J. Lawrence, D. Masters, E. Sandburg, C. Sassoon, S. Whitman, W. Wordsworth, W. Yeats, W. Roosevelt, T.
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Stein, G. Self-love and reason to one end aspire, Pain their aversion, pleasure their desire; But greedy that its object would devour, This taste the honey, and not wound the flower: 90 Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood, Our greatest evil, or our greatest good. Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes; And when, in act, they cease, in prospect, rise: Present to grasp, and future still to find, The whole employ of body and of mind.
We, wretched subjects, though to lawful sway, In this weak queen, some favourite still obey: Ah! Teach us to mourn our nature, not to mend, A sharp accuser, but a helpless friend!
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Or from a judge turn pleader, to persuade The choice we make, or justify it made; Proud of an easy conquest all along, She but removes weak passions for the strong: So, when small humours gather to a gout, The doctor fancies he has driven them out. What crops of wit and honesty appear From spleen, from obstinacy, hate, or fear! But what will grow on pride, or grow on shame. Thus Nature gives us let it check our pride The virtue nearest to our vice allied: Reason the bias turns to good from ill, And Nero reigns a Titus, if he will.
If white and black blend, soften, and unite A thousand ways, is there no black or white?
An Essay on Man, by Alexander Pope
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. No creature owns it in the first degree, But thinks his neighbour further gone than he; Even those who dwell beneath its very zone, Or never feel the rage, or never own; What happier natures shrink at with affright, The hard inhabitant contends is right. Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally The common interest, or endear the tie.
To these we owe true friendship, love sincere, Each home-felt joy that life inherits here; Yet from the same we learn, in its decline, Those joys, those loves, those interests to resign; Taught half by reason, half by mere decay, To welcome death, and calmly pass away. Observe how near he edges on our race; What human tricks!
And why this ardent longing for a maid? Go, reasoning thing! Show by what rules the wandering planets stray, Correct old Time, and teach the sun his way. Could He, who taught each planet where to roll, Describe or fix one movement of the soul? A tedious voyage!
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