John Dryden
John Dryden
John Drydenwas an English poet, literary critic, translator, and playwright who was made England's first Poet Laureate in 1668...
track tears dew
What precious drops are those, Which silently each other's track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their faint dew?
silence suffering
Silence in times of suffering is the best.
patience soul your-soul
Possess your soul with patience.
thinking winning lovely
If all the world be worth thy winning. / Think, oh think it worth enjoying: / Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee, / Take the good the gods provide thee.
second-thoughts
Second thoughts, they say, are best.
heart men israel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd: When Nature prompted, and no Law deni'd Promiscuous use of concubine and bride; Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart, His vigorous warmth did variously impart To wives and slaves: and, wide as his command, Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land.
spring hands mind
Thou spring'st a leak already in thy crown, A flaw is in thy ill-bak'd vessel found; 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound, Yet thy moist clay is pliant to command, Unwrought, and easy to the potter's hand: Now take the mould; now bend thy mind to feel The first sharp motions of the forming wheel.
plenty sufficient
It is sufficient to say, according to the proverb, that here is God's plenty.
rain fate past
Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power; But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
men brave quarrels
A brave man scorns to quarrel once a day; Like Hectors in at every petty fray.
dine
The true Amphitryon is the Amphitryon where we dine.
heart thinking mad
My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public; and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.
grieving suffering nations
Better one suffer than a nation grieve.
talent stills nations
But 'tis the talent of our English nation, Still to be plotting some new reformation.