And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDENAnd plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDENWar seldom enters but where wealth allures.
JOHN DRYDENAll objects lose by too familiar a view.
JOHN DRYDENDancing is the poetry of the foot.
JOHN DRYDENThe trumpet’s loud clangor Excites us to arms.
JOHN DRYDENNever was patriot yet, but was a fool.
JOHN DRYDENBe 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.
JOHN DRYDENLove reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
JOHN DRYDENAs one that neither seeks, nor shuns his foe.
JOHN DRYDENWhen a man’s life is under debate, The judge can ne’er too long deliberate.
JOHN DRYDENThe thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.
JOHN DRYDENThey, who would combat general authority with particular opinion, must first establish themselves a reputation of understanding better than other men.
JOHN DRYDENKeen appetite And quick digestion wait on you and yours.
JOHN DRYDENFame then was cheap, and the first comer sped; And they have kept it since by being dead.
JOHN DRYDENSo the false spider, when her nets are spread, deep ambushed in her silent den does lie.
JOHN DRYDENFor what can power give more than food and drink, To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
JOHN DRYDEN