An Essay on Man

Alexander Pope, (1688-1744)

Epistle II, (1733)

Know, then, thyself, presume not God to scan;

The proper study of Mankind is Man.

Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,

A being darkly wise, and rudely great:

With too much knowledge for the sceptic side,

With too much weakness for the stoic's pride,

He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest;

In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast;

In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer;

Born but to die, and reasoning but to err;

Alike in ignorance, his reason such,

Whether he thinks too little, or too much:

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;

Still by himself abused, or disabused;

Created half to rise, and half to fall;

Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled:

The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!

Two principles in human nature reign;

Self-love to urge, and reason, to restrain;

Nor this a good, nor that a bad we call,

Each works its end, to move or govern all

And to their proper operation still,

Ascribe all good; to their improper, ill.

Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling train,

Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain,

These mixed with art, and to due bounds confined,

Make and maintain the balance of the mind;

The lights and shades, whose well-accorded strife

Gives all the strength and colour of our life.

Epistle IV, (1734).

Come, then, my friend! my genius! come along;

Oh, master of the poet, and the song!

And while the muse now stoops, or now ascends,

To man's low passions, or their glorious ends,

Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise,

To fall with dignity, with temper rise;

Formed by thy converse, happily to steer

From grave to gay, from lively to severe;

Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease,

Intent to reason, or polite to please.

Oh! while along the stream of time thy name

Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame,

Say, shall my little bark attendant sail,

Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale?

When statesmen, heroes, kings, in dust repose,

Whose sons shall blush their fathers were thy foes,

Shall then this verse to future age pretend

Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend?

That urged by thee, I turned the tuneful art

From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart;

From wit's false mirror held up Nature's light;

Showed erring pride, WHATEVER IS IS RIGHT;

That reason, passion, answer one great aim;

That true self-love and social are the same;

That virtue only makes our bliss below;

And all our knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW.

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