Stretch'd On The Rack Of A Too Easy Chair, And Heard Thy Everlasting Yawn Confess The Pains And Penalties Of Idleness.

A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 90...
E'en Palinurus nodded at the helm.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 614...
How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast!
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 169...
Judicious drank, and greatly daring din'd.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 318...
The right divine of kings to govern wrong.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 188...
O thou! whatever title please thine ear, Dean, Drapier, Bickerstaff, or Gulliver!
Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air, Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy-chair....
To happy convents bosom'd deep in vines, Where slumber abbots purple as their wines.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 301...
Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round, And gather'd every vice on Christian ground.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 311...
Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires, And unawares Morality expires.
Nor public flame nor private dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!...