"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."

"She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen."

"Ajax the great… Himself a host."

"Plough the watery deep."

"The day shall come, that great avenging day, Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay, When Priam's powers and Priam's self shall fall, And one prodigious ruin swallow all."

"First in the fight and every graceful deed."

"The first in banquets, but the last in fight."

"Gods! How the son degenerates from the sire!"

"With all its beauteous honours on its head."

"A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault."

"Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,— Such men as live in these degenerate days."

"Whose little body lodg'd a mighty mind."

"He held his seat,—a friend to human race. Fast by the road, his ever-open door Obliged the wealthy, and relieved the poor."

"Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies: They fall successive, and successive rise."

"Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind."

"If yet not lost to all the sense of shame."

"'Tis man's to fight, but Heaven's to give success."

"The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy."

"Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee."

"May I lie cold before that dreadful day, Pressed with a load of monumental clay!"

"Andromache! my soul's far better part."

"He from whose lips divine persuasion flows."

"Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend; And each brave foe was in his soul a friend."

"I war not with the dead."

"Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn."

"As full-blown poppies, overcharg'd with rain, Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain, — So sinks the youth; his beauteous head, depress'd Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast."

"As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies."

"Who dares think one thing, and another tell, My heart detests him as the gates of hell."

"Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold: Not all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold, Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway, Can bribe the poor possession of a day."

"Short is my date, but deathless my renown."

"Injustice, swift, erect, and unconfin'd, Sweeps the wide earth, and tramples o'er mankind."

"Wit and judgment often are at strife, Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife."

"One science only will one genius fit: So vast is art, so narrow human wit."

"Nature to all things fix'd the Limits fit, And wisely curb'd proud Man's pretending Wit: As on the Land while here the Ocean gains, In other Parts it leaves wide sandy Plains; Thus in the Soul while Memory prevails, The solid Pow'r of Understanding fails; Where Beams of warm Imagination play, The Memory's soft Figures melt away."

"Some are bewildered in the maze of schools, And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools."

"Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well."

"'Tis with our judgements as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own."

"Ten Censure wrong for one who Writes amiss."

"Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honor clear; Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gained no title, and who lost no friend."

"To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, Who never mentions hell to ears polite."

"Tis use alone that sanctifies expense, And splendor borrows all her rays from sense."

"Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven."

"But Satan now is wiser than of yore, And tempts by making rich, not making poor."

"The Essay on Criticism...displays such extent of comprehension, such nicety of distinction, such acquaintance with mankind, and such knowledge both of ancient and modern learning as are not often attained by the maturest age and longest experience."

"One of [Pope's] greatest though of his earliest works is the Essay on Criticism, which if he had written nothing else would have placed him among the first criticks and the first poets, as it exhibits every mode of excellence that can embellish or dignify didactick composition, selection of matter, novelty of arrangement, justness of precept, splendour of illustration, and propriety of digression. I know not whether it be pleasing to consider that he produced this piece at twenty, and never afterwards excelled it: he that delights himself with observing that such powers may be so soon attained, cannot but grieve to think that life was ever after at a stand."

"What woeful stuff this madrigal would be, In some starved hackney sonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!"

"But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the style refines!"

"Some praise at morning what they blame at night, But always think the last opinion right."