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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

All authors to their own defects are blind.
JOHN DRYDEN

Author Blind Defect
A good conscience is a port which is landlocked on every side, where no winds can possibly invade. There a man may not only see his own image, but that of his Maker, clearly reflected from the undisturbed waters.
JOHN DRYDEN

Conscience Goodness Image Man Reflection Water
All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.
JOHN DRYDEN

Absence Flower Sun Sweet Wake Up
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

Eagle Fools Mount Myself Wings
Sculptors are obliged to follow the manners of the painters, and to make many ample folds, which are unsufferable hardness, and more like a rock than a natural garment.
JOHN DRYDEN

Follow Natural Obligation Paint Rock Sculptor
And write whatever Time shall bring to pass With pens of adamant on plates of brass.
JOHN DRYDEN

Plate Time Writing
None are so busy as the fool and the knave.
JOHN DRYDEN

Busy Fools
But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.
JOHN DRYDEN

Numerous Talk Thinking
He has not learned the first lesson of life who does not every day surmount a fear.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fear Learning Lesson
And that the Scriptures, though not everywhere Free from corruption, or entire, or clear, Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire In all things which our needful faith require.
JOHN DRYDEN

Corruption Faith Freedom Need Scripture Sufficient
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fear Horrible Ourselves Silence Temptation
Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
JOHN DRYDEN

Desire God Greatness Sin
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
Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
JOHN DRYDEN

Infidelity Mysterious Thinking
He who would search for pearls must dive below.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Pearl Search
Only man clogs his happiness with care, destroying what is with thoughts of what may be.
JOHN DRYDEN

Care Destroy Happiness Man Thinking

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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