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Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.

John Dryden

Imagining is in itself the very height and life of poetry, which, by a kind of enthusiasm or extraordinary emotion of the soul, makes it seem to us that we behold those things which the poet paints.
JOHN DRYDEN

Emotion Enthusiasm Height Imagination Paint Poet Soul
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
JOHN DRYDEN

Nature Obligation Response Trust
Luxurious kings are to their people lost, They live like drones, upon the public cost.
JOHN DRYDEN

Live Lost Luxury People Public
There is a proud modesty in merit.
JOHN DRYDEN

Advantage Modesty Proud
Pride – Lord of human kind.
JOHN DRYDEN

Human Kind Pride
Parting is worse than death; it is death of love!
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Love Part Worst
No king nor nation one moment can retard the appointed hour.
JOHN DRYDEN

King Mad Moments Nation
Great souls forgive not injuries till time has put their enemies within their power, that they may show forgiveness is their own.
JOHN DRYDEN

Enemy Forgiveness Greatness Injury Power Soul Time
Love is not in our choice but in our fate.
JOHN DRYDEN

Choice Fate Love
A happy genius is the gift of nature.
JOHN DRYDEN

Genius Gift Happy Nature
No government has ever been, or can ever be, wherein time-servers and blockheads will not be uppermost.
JOHN DRYDEN

Block Government Time
Men’s virtues I have commended as freely as I have taxed their crimes.
JOHN DRYDEN

Crime Freedom Tax Virtue
Death ends our woes, and the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death End Grave Kind Mourn
I’m a little wounded, but I am not slain; I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I’ll rise and fight again.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fight Myself Rise Wound
Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
JOHN DRYDEN

Best Kind Ourselves Steal
For truth has such a face and such a mien, as to be loved needs only to be seen.
JOHN DRYDEN

Face Need See Truth

Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.

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Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.

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