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Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than a dull prospect of a distant good.

John Dryden

For secrets are edged tools, And must be kept from children and from fools.
JOHN DRYDEN

Children Edge Fools Secret Tools
Swift was the race, but short the time to run.
JOHN DRYDEN

Race Run Swift Time
He who trusts secrets to a servant makes him his master.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Master Secret Servant Trust
Satire is a kind of poetry in which human vices are reprehended.
JOHN DRYDEN

Human Kind Poetry Satire Vice
Every language is so full of its own proprieties that what is beautiful in one is often barbarous, nay, sometimes nonsense, in another.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beautiful Language Oneself
Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
JOHN DRYDEN

Courage Growth Heart
Trust on and think To-morrow will repay; To-morrow’s falser than the former day; Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blest With some new Joys, cuts off what we possest.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fake Happiness Thinking Trust
The trumpet’s loud clangor Excites us to arms.
JOHN DRYDEN

Excitement Loud
Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.
JOHN DRYDEN

Favorite Heaven Man
He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
JOHN DRYDEN

Thinking Unknown Whistle
All things are subject to decay and when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
JOHN DRYDEN

Decay Monarch Obedience Subject
They live too long who happiness outlive.
JOHN DRYDEN

Happiness Live
Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray; Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way: Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on, And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
JOHN DRYDEN

Beautiful Dangerous Surface Way
All empire is no more than power in trust.
JOHN DRYDEN

Empire Power Trust
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
Three poets, in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpass’d; The next, in majesty; in both the last. The force of Nature could no further go; To make a third, she join’d the former two.
JOHN DRYDEN

Age Distant Force Herself Nature Poet

Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than a dull prospect of a distant good.

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Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than a dull prospect of a distant good.

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