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LINES FROM THE ART OF SINKING by ALEXANDER POPE

Poet Analysis

First Line: FOR WHOM THUS RUDELY PLEADS MY LOUD-TONGU'D GATE
Last Line: AND STRIP WHITE CERES OF HER NUT-BROWN COAT.

WHO KNOCKS AT THE DOOR?

For whom thus rudely pleads my loud-tongu'd Gate,
That he may enter? --

SHUT THE DOOR

The wooden Guardian of our Privacy
Quick on its Axle turn. --

BRING MY CLOATHS

Bring me what Nature, Taylor to the Bear,
To Man himself deny'd: She gave me Cold,
But would not give me Cloaths. --

LIGHT THE FIRE

Bring forth some Remnant of Promethean theft,
Quick to expand th' inclement Air congeal'd
By Boreas's rude breath. --

SNUFF THE CANDLE

Yon Luminary Amputation needs,
Thus shall you save its half-extinguish'd Life.

UNCORK THE BOTTLE AND CHIP THE BREAD

Apply thine Engine to the spungy Door,
Set Bacchus from his glassy Prison free,
And strip white Ceres of her nut-brown Coat.



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