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To Happy Convents Bosom'd Deep In Vines, Where Slumber Abbots Purple As Their Wines.
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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
Related:
The right divine of kings to govern wrong.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 188...
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...
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...
Or where the pictures for the page atone, And Quarles is sav'd by beauties not his own.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book i, Line 139...
Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair, And heard thy everlasting yawn confess The pains and penalties of idleness.
-- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Dunciad, Book iv, Line 342...
Stuff the head With all such reading as was never read
For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, And write about it, goddess, and about it....