Farewell to London poem – Alexander Pope

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period

Dear, damn’d distracting town, farewell!

Thy fools no more I’ll tease:

This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,

Ye harlots, sleep at ease!

Soft B– and rough C–s adieu,

Earl Warwick made your moan,

The lively H–k and you

May knock up whores alone.

To drink and droll be Rowe allow’d

Till the third watchman’s toll;

Let Jervas gratis paint, and Frowde

Save three-pence and his soul.

Farewell, Arbuthnot’s raillery

On every learned sot;

And Garth, the best good Christian he,

Although he knows it not.

Lintot, farewell! thy bard must go;

Farewell, unhappy Tonson!

Heaven gives thee for thy loss of Rowe,

Lean Philips, and fat Johnson.

Why should I stay? Both parties rage;

My vixen mistress squalls;

The wits in envious feuds engage:

And Homer (damn him!) calls.

The love of arts lies cold and dead

In Halifax’s urn:

And not one Muse of all he fed

Has yet the grace to mourn.

My friends, by turns, my friends confound,

Betray, and are betrayed:

Poor Y–r’s sold for fifty pound,

And B–ll is a jade.

Why make I friendships with the great,

When I no favour seek?

Or follow girls, seven hours in eight?

I us’d but once a week.

Still idle, with a busy air,

Deep whimsies to contrive;

The gayest valetudinaire,

Most thinking rake, alive.

Solicitous for others’ ends,

Though fond of dear repose;

Careless or drowsy with my friends,

And frolic with my foes.

Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,

For sober, studious days!

And Burlington’s delicious meal,

For salads, tarts, and pease!

Adieu to all, but Gay alone,

Whose soul, sincere and free,

Loves all mankind, but flatters none,

And so may starve with me.

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Poems in English 

• Федор Сологуб – В лес пришла пастушка by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В камине пылания много by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В иных веках, в иной отчизне by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В этот час by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – В его саду растет рябина by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Терцинами писать как будто очень трудно by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Тепло мне потому, что мой уютный дом by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Тень решётки прочной by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Там, внизу, костры горели by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Так же внятен мне, как прежде by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Так нежен был внезапный поцелуй by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Святых имен твоих не знаю by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Своеволием рока by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Светлый пир by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Светлый дом мой всё выше by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Сверкайте, миги строгих дней by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Солнце, которому больно by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Собака седого короля by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Снова саваны надели by Фёдор Сологуб
• Федор Сологуб – Снежное поле бесшумно by Фёдор Сологуб

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