Quelques poèmes de Pope...(en anglais)

Marianne, dans Raison et Sentiment, cite des auteurs tels que Pope ou Cowper. Voici donc quelques poèmes de Pope, pour avoir une idée du genre de poésie que l’on lit au temps de Jane Austen…

SOLITUDE

by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

OW happy he, who free from care

The rage of courts, and noise of towns;

Contented breaths his native air,

In his own grounds.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,

Whose flocks supply him with attire,

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide swift away,

In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease

Together mix'd; sweet recreation,

And innocence, which most does please,

With meditation.

Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me dye;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lye.

THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL

by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

ITAL spark of heav'nly flame!

Quit, O quit this mortal frame:

Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,

O the pain, the bliss of dying!

Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,

And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper; angels say,

Sister Spirit, come away!

What is this absorbs me quite?

Steals my senses, shuts my sight,

Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?

Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

The world recedes; it disappears!

Heav'n opens my eyes! my ears

With sounds seraphic ring!

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!

O Grave! where is thy victory?

O Death! where is thy sting?

YOU KNOW WHERE YOU DID DESPISE

by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

OU know where you did despise

(Tother day) my little Eyes,

Little Legs, and little Thighs,

And some things, of little Size,

You know where.

You, tis true, have fine black eyes,

Taper legs, and tempting Thighs,

Yet what more than all we prize

Is a Thing of little Size,

You know where.