HOMER
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A very pretty poem, Mr. Pope, but it's not Homer.—RICHARD BENTLEY, Comment upon Pope's translation of the Iliad
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Wayfarer, though the tomb be small, pass me not by, but pour on me a libation, and venerate me as thou dost the gods. For I hold the divine Homer, the poet of the epic, honored exceedingly by the Pierian muses.—Anonymous: Epitaph
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A man who has not read Homer is like a man who has not seen the ocean. There is a great object of which he has no idea.—WALTER BAGEHOT, Literary Studies
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I can no more believe old Homer blind,
Than those who say the sun hath never shin'd:
The age wherein he liv'd was dark, but he
Could not want sight who taught the world to see.—SIR JOHN DENHAM, Progress of Learning
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Homer himself hath been observ'd to nod.—HORACE, Ars Poetica
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Every novel is a debtor to Homer.—EMERSON, Representative Men
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Seven cities warred for Homer being dead
Who living had no roof e to shrowd his head.—THOMAS HEYWOOD, Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells
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Here the earth covers the sacred head of divine Homer, the glorifier of hero-men.—HOMER, his own epitaph
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When 'Omer smote 'is blooming lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' tookâthe same as me!—KIPLING, When 'Omer Smote 'Is Bloomin'
Lyre
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There's a blind man here with a brow
As big and white as a cloud.
And all we fiddlers, from highest to lowest,
Writers of music and tellers of stories,
Sit at his feet,
And hear him sing of the fall of Troy.—EDGAR LEE MASTERS,Spoon River Anthology
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