Essay on Man - Continued. Line 309. Know then this truth (enough for man to know), “ Virtue alone is happiness below.” Line 330. Line 379. Line 385. Line 390. MORAL ESSAYS. Epistle i. Line 135. 'Tis from high life high characters are drawn; A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn. Line 149. 'Tis education forms the common mind : Just as the twig is bent, the tree 's inclined. Line 246. Odious ! in woollen! ’t would a saint provoke, Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke. Moral Essays - Continued. Line 263. And you, brave Cobham ! to the latest breath Shall feel your ruling passion strong in death. Epistle ii. Line 15. Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it. Line 19. Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute. a Line 43. Fine by defect and delicately weak. Line 97. With too much quickness ever to be taught; With too much thinking to have common thought. Line 163. Line 215. Line 243. Line 257. Continued. Moral Essays Line 268. Line 270. Woman 's at best a contradiction still. Epistle iii. Line 1. Who shall decide when doctors disagree? Line 95. Line 153. Line 161. Extremes in nature equal good produce. Line -250. Rise, honest muse! and sing, the man of Ross. Line 285. Who builds a church to God, and not to fame, Will never mark the marble with his name. a Epistle iv. Line 149. To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite Who never mentions hell to ears polite. AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM. Part i. Line 9. ’T is with our judgments as our watches ; none Go just alike, yet each believes his own. Line 153. Part ii. Line 15. Line 32. Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. Line 53. Line 97. Line 156. A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. *“High characters,” cries one, and he would see, Epilogue to “Goblins.” SUÇKLING. Essay on Poetry. SHEFFIELD. Essay on Criticism — Continued. Line 162. True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance. Line 165. The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Line 325. To err is human: to forgive, divine. Line 358. Part iii. Line 15. Line 53. Line 66. Ode on Solitude. Thus unlamented let me die; Tell where I lie. |