Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

JOHN DRYDEN

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Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Related Topics

Bagwalas

They, who would combat general authority with particular opinion, must first establish themselves a reputation of understanding better than other men.

JOHN DRYDEN

They, who would combat general authority with particular opinion, must first establish themselves a reputation of understanding better than other men.
JOHN DRYDEN

General
Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.

JOHN DRYDEN

Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
JOHN DRYDEN
Since a true knowledge of nature gives us pleasure, a lively imitation of it, either in poetry or painting, must produce a much greater; for both these arts are not only true imitations of nature, but of the best nature.

JOHN DRYDEN

Since a true knowledge of nature gives us pleasure, a lively imitation of it, either in poetry or painting, must produce a much greater; for both these arts are not only true imitations of nature, but of the best nature.
JOHN DRYDEN

Best Production
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

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

Dangerous Way
At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.

JOHN DRYDEN

At home the hateful names of parties cease, And factious souls are wearied into peace.
JOHN DRYDEN

Name
Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem.

JOHN DRYDEN

Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem.
JOHN DRYDEN

Satire
Few know the use of life before ’tis past.

JOHN DRYDEN

Few know the use of life before ’tis past.
JOHN DRYDEN
An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.

JOHN DRYDEN

An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
JOHN DRYDEN

Horrible Temptation
It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.

JOHN DRYDEN

It is a madness to make fortune the mistress of events, because in herself she is nothing, can rule nothing, but is ruled by prudence.
JOHN DRYDEN

Fortune Prudence
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.

JOHN DRYDEN

Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
JOHN DRYDEN

Object
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

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
If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.

JOHN DRYDEN

If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.
JOHN DRYDEN
Hushed as midnight silence.

JOHN DRYDEN

Hushed as midnight silence.
JOHN DRYDEN
Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.

JOHN DRYDEN

Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
JOHN DRYDEN
Mighty things from small beginnings grow.

JOHN DRYDEN

Mighty things from small beginnings grow.
JOHN DRYDEN

Small
He was exhaled; his great Creator drew His spirit, as the sun the morning dew.

JOHN DRYDEN

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

Dew

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