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For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.

John Dryden

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John Dryden
Age: 68 †
Born: 1631
Born: August 7
Died: 1700
Died: May 12
Hymnwriter
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Aldwincle
Northamptonshire
Gains
Mankind
Rest
Pleasure
Happiness
Pain
Gain

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Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long.
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The good we have enjoyed from Heaven's free will, and shall we murmur to endure the ill?
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Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
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A knock-down argument 'tis but a word and a blow.
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How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
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Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.
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Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last.
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All habits gather by unseen degrees.
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You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.
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As when the dove returning bore the mark Of earth restored to the long labouring ark The relics of mankind, secure at rest, Oped every window to receive the guest, And the fair bearer of the message bless'd.
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Order is the greatest grace.
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Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.
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Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain. Bachus's blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
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What passion cannot music raise and quell!
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If by the people you understand the multitude, the hoi polloi, 'tis no matter what they think they are sometimes in the right, sometimes in the wrong their judgment is a mere lottery.
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Second thoughts, they say, are best.
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