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None are so busy as the fool and the knave.

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
Knave
Knaves
Busy
None
Fool

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Then we upon our globe's last verge shall go, And view the ocean leaning on the sky: From thence our rolling Neighbours we shall know, And on the Lunar world securely pry.
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He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
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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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Desire of greatness is a godlike sin.
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Virtue without success is a fair picture shown by an ill light but lucky men are favorites of heaven all own the chief, when fortune owns the cause.
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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.
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Fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods, and wing their hasty flight to happier lands.
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Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
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An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
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Words are but pictures of our thoughts.
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Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres.
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Railing in other men may be a crime, But ought to pass for mere instinct in him: Instinct he follows and no further knows, For to write verse with him is to transprose.
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I have a soul that like an ample shield Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
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Revealed religion first informed thy sight, and reason saw not till faith sprung to light.
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