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Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

John Dryden

Love and Time with reverence use, Treat them like a parting friend: Nor the golden gifts refuse Which in youth sincere they send: For each year their price is more, And they less simple than before.
JOHN DRYDEN

Friendship Love Price Time Treat
Virtue is her own reward.
JOHN DRYDEN

One Liner Reward Virtue
All, as they say, that glitters is not gold.
JOHN DRYDEN

Glitter Gold
When we view elevated ideas of Nature, the result of that view is admiration, which is always the cause of pleasure.
JOHN DRYDEN

Ideas Nature Pleasure View
Pity melts the mind to love.
JOHN DRYDEN

Love Mindset Pity
And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.
JOHN DRYDEN

Plate Time Writing
Freedom which in no other land will thrive, Freedom an English subject’s sole prerogative.
JOHN DRYDEN

Freedom Subject Thrive
Deathless laurel is the victor’s due.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Due
But love’s a malady without a cure.
JOHN DRYDEN

Cure Love
Murder may pass unpunished for a time, But tardy justice will overtake the crime.
JOHN DRYDEN

Crime Murder Punishment Time
The conscience of a people is their power.
JOHN DRYDEN

Conscience People Power
Reason to rule, mercy to forgive: The first is law, the last prerogative. Life is an adventure in forgiveness.
JOHN DRYDEN

Adventure First Forgiveness Reason Rule
If passion rules, how weak does reason prove!
JOHN DRYDEN

Evidence Passion Reason Rule Weakness
Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
JOHN DRYDEN

Infidelity Mysterious Thinking
What passion cannot music raise and quell!
JOHN DRYDEN

Music Passion Raise
Men are but children of a larger growth, Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain.
JOHN DRYDEN

Children Crave Growth Man

Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

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Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

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