author - "Alexander Pope"
increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,Hills peep o'er hills and Alps on Alps arise!
A perfect judge will read each work of witWith the same spirit that its author writSurvey the whole nor seek slight faults to findWhere nature moves and rapture warms the mind,Nor lose for that malignant dull delightThe generous pleasure to be charmed with witBut in such lays as neither ebb nor flow,Correctly cold and regularly lowThat, shunning faults, one quiet tenor keep;We cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep.In wit, as nature, what affects our heartsIs not the exactness of peculiar parts,'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,But the joint force and full result of all.Thus, when we view some well proportioned dome(The worlds just wonder, and even thine, O Rome!), [248]No single parts unequally surprise,All comes united to the admiring eyes;No monstrous height or breadth, or length, appear;The whole at once is bold, and regular.
Whoever thinks
increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,Hills peep o'er hills and Alps on Alps arise!
A perfect judge will read each work of witWith the same spirit that its author writSurvey the whole nor seek slight faults to findWhere nature moves and rapture warms the mind,Nor lose for that malignant dull delightThe generous pleasure to be charmed with witBut in such lays as neither ebb nor flow,Correctly cold and regularly lowThat, shunning faults, one quiet tenor keep;We cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep.In wit, as nature, what affects our heartsIs not the exactness of peculiar parts,'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,But the joint force and full result of all.Thus, when we view some well proportioned dome(The worlds just wonder, and even thine, O Rome!), [248]No single parts unequally surprise,All comes united to the admiring eyes;No monstrous height or breadth, or length, appear;The whole at once is bold, and regular.
Whoever thinks