ALEXANDER POPE

(1688-1744)

Alexander Pope, during his life and for many years afterward, was regarded as one of England's great poets. He is now more commonly and more properly

considered as a clever rhyming essayist, the author of many quotable philosophical bright remarks. There is little in his writing that is genuinely poetical. He said, however, very clever things in good verse.

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He says of himself that he "lisped in numbers for the numbers came," and apparently he could say little except by the use of meter, but that is a very different thing from being a poet.

Personally, he was a notable figure in the days of Queen Anne, a dwarf, deformed, and feeble in health, querulous, disagreeable, and impertinent; but yet, by his cleverness in writing, he attained a prominent, and, on the whole, an honorable, position in his time.

UNIVERSAL PRAYER

Pope's Universal Prayer is intended to voice the religious aspirations of all people, whatever their creed or specific beliefs.

Father of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime ador'd,

By saint, by savage, and by sage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, least understood,

Who all my sense confin'd

To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind:

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,

To see the good from ill;

And binding Nature fast in Fate,

Left free the human Will.

What Conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do;

This teach me more than Hell to shun,
That more than Heav'n pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives
Let me not cast away;

For God is paid when man receives:
T'enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,

Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.

Let not this weak unknowing hand
Presume thy bolts to throw,

And deal damnation round the land
On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,

Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, O teach my heart
To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish pride

Or impious discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has denied,

Or aught thy goodness lent,

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This day be bread and peace my lot:
All else beneath the sun

Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.

To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar earth, sea, skies,

One chorus let all being raise,

All Nature's incense rise!

ALEXANDER POPE.

THOMAS MOORE

(1779-1852)

Thomas Moore, familiarly known as Tom Moore, is one of those fascinating characters such as only

Ireland produces, brilliant, passionate, an imaginative poet; at times dwelling in the field of unalloyed