A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period
I.
In ev’ry Town, where Thamis rolls his Tyde,
A narrow pass there is, with Houses low;
Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey’d,
And many a Boat soft sliding to and fro.
There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe,
The short thick Sob, loud Scream, and shriller Squall:
How can ye, Mothers, vex your Children so?
Some play, some eat, some cack against the wall,
And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.
II.
And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco shop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by;
And here a sailor’s jacket hangs to dry.
At ev’ry door are sun-burnt matrons seen,
Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry;
Now singing shrill, and scolding eft between;
Scolds answer foul-mouth’d scolds; bad neighbourhood I ween.
III.
The snappish cur, (the passengers’ annoy)
Close at my heel with yelping treble flies;
The whimp’ring girl, and hoarser-screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble shrilling cries;
The scolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those shrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep bass are drown’d.
IV.
Hard by a Sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch,
Cod, whiting, oyster, mackrel, sprat, or plaice:
There learn’d she speech from tongues that never cease.
Slander beside her, like a Mag-pie, chatters,
With Envy, (spitting Cat) dread foe to peace;
Like a curs’d Cur, Malice before her clatters,
And vexing ev’ry wight, tears clothes and all to tatters.
V.
Her dugs were mark’d by ev’ry Collier’s hand,
Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall:
She scratch’d, bit, and spar’d ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all;
Nay, e’en the parts of shame by name would call:
Yea, when she passed by or lane or nook,
Would greet the man who turn’d him to the Wall,
And by his hand obscene the porter took,
Nor ever did askance like modest Virgin look.
VI.
Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,
Woolwich and Wapping smelling strong of pitch;
Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown,
And Twick’nam such, which fairer scenes enrich,
Grots, statues, urns, and Johnston’s Dog and Bitch,
Ne village is without, on either side,
All up the silver Thames, or all adown;
Ne Richmond’s self, from whose tall front are ey’d
Vales, spires, meandring streams, and Windsor’s tow’ry pride.
A few random poems:
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- Song. Murdering Beauty by Thomas Carew
- Song In March by William Gilmore Simms
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- Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse by William Shakespeare
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- The Brigs of Ayr by Robert Burns
- Николай Огарев – Она никогда его не любила
- The Source by W. S. Merwin
- Journey Of The Magi by T. S. Eliot
- Джон Мильтон – Псалом 1
- once i saw a old man’s shop by tulip
- Robert Burns: Farewell Song To The Banks Of Ayr: “I composed this song as I conveyed my chest so far on my road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my native land.”-R. B.
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Upon The Sight Of A Beautiful Picture Painted By Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart by William Wordsworth
- To The Small Celandine by William Wordsworth
- To The Poet, John Dyer by William Wordsworth
- To Sleep by William Wordsworth
- To Sir George Howland Beaumont, Bart From the South-West Coast Or Cumberland 1811 by William Wordsworth
- To Joanna by William Wordsworth
- To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country by William Wordsworth
- To a Sky-Lark by William Wordsworth
- ‘Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love by William Wordsworth
- The Vaudois by William Wordsworth
- The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice by William Wordsworth
- The Two April Mornings by William Wordsworth
- The Thorn by William Wordsworth
- The Tables Turned by William Wordsworth
- The Sun Has Long Been Set by William Wordsworth
- The Stars Are Mansions Built By Nature’s Hand by William Wordsworth
- The Sparrow’s Nest by William Wordsworth
- The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth
- The Simplon Pass by William Wordsworth
- The Shepherd, Looking Eastward, Softly Said by William Wordsworth
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
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Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works

Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744) was a a post-Restoration English poet and satirist. He is a poet of the (British) Augustan period and one of its greatest artistic exponents.