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Many things impossible to thought have been by need to full perfection brought.

John Dryden

The thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Man Thinking Virtue
Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
JOHN DRYDEN

Brave Despair Happiness
Old as I am, for ladies’ love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
JOHN DRYDEN

Myself Old Power Remember
He was exhaled; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.
JOHN DRYDEN

Creation Dew Greatness Himself Morning Spirit
Present joys are more to flesh and blood Than a dull prospect of a distant good.
JOHN DRYDEN

Distance Flesh Goodness Present
A farce is that in poetry which grotesque (caricature) is in painting. The persons and actions of a farce are all unnatural, and the manners false, that is, inconsistent with the characters of mankind; and grotesque painting is the just resemblance of this.
JOHN DRYDEN

Character Kind Man Natural Painting Person Poetry
For secrets are edged tools, And must be kept from children and from fools.
JOHN DRYDEN

Children Edge Fools Secret Tools
Time glides with undiscover’d haste; The future but a length behind the past.
JOHN DRYDEN

Discover Future Glide Haste Length Past
Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
JOHN DRYDEN

Claim Grave Rich Slave
Swift was the race, but short the time to run.
JOHN DRYDEN

Race Run Swift Time
Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
JOHN DRYDEN

Infidelity Mysterious Thinking
We by art unteach what Nature taught.
JOHN DRYDEN

Art Nature Teaching
All objects lose by too familiar a view.
JOHN DRYDEN

Familiar Lose Object View
Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own; he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
JOHN DRYDEN

Alone Day Happiness Live Man Myself Secure Worst
Parting is worse than death; it is death of love!
JOHN DRYDEN

Death Love Part Worst
A woman’s counsel brought us first to woe, And made her man his paradise forego, Where at heart’s ease he liv’d; and might have been As free from sorrow as he was from sin.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Man Paradise Sin Sorrow Woman

Many things impossible to thought have been by need to full perfection brought.

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Many things impossible to thought have been by need to full perfection brought.

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