large/10022/essayoncriticism_1505_librivox_64kb_mp3/essayoncriticism_02_pope_64kb_10
large/10022/essayoncriticism_1505_librivox_64kb_mp3/essayoncriticism_02_pope_64kb
English
10022
Unhappy wit, like most mistaken things Atones not for that envy which it brings In youth alone its empty praise we boast But soon the short lived vanity is lost. UNHAPPY WITH LIKE MOST MISTAKEN THINGS ATONES NOT FOR THAT ENVY WHICH IT BRINGS IN YOUTH ALONE ITS EMPTY PRAISE WE BOAST BUT SOON THE SHUT LIVED VANITY IS LOST
powerful beams displays, It draws up vapors which obscure its rays, But even those clouds at last adorn its way Reflect new glories and augment the day Be thou the first true merit to befriend His praise is lost who stays till all commend Short is the date alas! of modern rhymes And 'tis but just to let them live betimes No longer now that golden age appears When patriarch wits survived a thousand years [479] Now length of fame (our second life) is lost And bare threescore is all even that can boast, Our sons their fathers failing language see And such as Chaucer is shall Dryden be So when the faithful pencil has designed Some bright idea of the master's mind Where a new world leaps out at his command And ready nature waits upon his hand When the ripe colors soften and unite And sweetly melt into just shade and light When mellowing years their full perfection give And each bold figure just begins to live The treacherous colors the fair art betray And all the bright creation fades away!  FIRST THAT SUN TO POWERFUL BEAMS DISPLAY IT DRAWS UP VAPORS WHICH OBSCURE ITS RAYS BUT EVEN THOSE CLOUDS AT LAST ADORN ITS WAYS REFLECT NEW GLORIES AND AUGMENT THE DAY BE THOU THE FIRST TRUE MERIT TO BEFRIEND HIS PRAISE IS LOST WHO STAY STILL ALL COMMAND SHUT IS THE DATE ALAS OF MODERN RHYMES AND TIS BUT JUST TO LET THEM LEAVE BEDTIME NO LONGER NOW THAT GOLDEN AGE APPEAR WHEN PATRIARS WHICH SURVIVED THOUSAND YEARS NOW LENGTH OF FAME OUR SECOND LIFE IS LOST AND BARE THREESCORE IS ALL EVEN THAT CAN BOAST OUR SONS THEIR FATHER'S FAILING LANGUAGE SEE AS SUCH TROUSER IS SHALL DRYDEN BE SO WHEN THE FATEFUL PENCIL HAS DESIGNED SOME BRIGHT IDEA OF THE MASTER'S MIND WHERE A NEW WORLD LEAPS OUT OF HIS COMMAND AND READY NATURE WAITS UPON HIS HAND WHEN THE RIPE COLLARS SOFTEN AND UNITE AND SWIFTLY MELT INTO JUST SHADE AND LIGHT WHEN MELLOWING YEARS THEIR FULL PERFECTION GIVE AND EACH BOLD FIGURE JUST BEGINS TO LEAVE THE TREACHEROUS COLORS THE FAIR ART BETRAY AND ALL THE BRIGHT CREATIONS FADE AWAY
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