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Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

John Dryden

Railing and praising were his usual themes; and both showed his judgment in extremes. Either over violent or over civil, so everyone to him was either god or devil.
JOHN DRYDEN

Himself Judgement Praise Theme
And plenty makes us poor.
JOHN DRYDEN

Poor
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
JOHN DRYDEN

Nature Obligation Response Trust
He look’d in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.
JOHN DRYDEN

Green Himself Youth
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
Tis a good thing to laugh at any rate; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness.
JOHN DRYDEN

Goodness Happiness Instrument Laughter Man Rate
There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know.
JOHN DRYDEN

Known Mad Pleasure
Repartee is the soul of conversation.
JOHN DRYDEN

Conversation One Liner Soul
All flowers will droop in the absence of the sun that waked their sweets.
JOHN DRYDEN

Absence Flower Sun Sweet Wake Up
Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem.
JOHN DRYDEN

Bitter Poem Satire
Plots, true or false, are necessary things, To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fake King Necessary Ruin True
Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail: But common interest always will prevail; And pity never ceases to be shown To him who makes the people’s wrongs his own.
JOHN DRYDEN

Action Beautiful Fall Grace Himself People Wrong Youth
If thou dost still retain the same ill habits, the same follies, too, still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave.
JOHN DRYDEN

Bound Habit Slave Vice
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
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
Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she’s at rest, and so am I.
JOHN DRYDEN

Lying Myself Wife

Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

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Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

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