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He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.
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
Whistled
Unknowing
Sought
Along
Went
Thought
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Nature meant me A wife, a silly, harmless, household dove, Fond without art, and kind without deceit.
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He invades authors like a monarch and what would be theft in other poets is only victory in him.
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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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There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know.
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I strongly wish for what I faintly hope like the daydreams of melancholy men, I think and think in things impossible, yet love to wander in that golden maze.
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By viewing nature, nature's handmaid art, Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow: Thus fishes first to shipping did impart, Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow.
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Repentance is but want of power to sin.
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The fortitude of a Christian consists in patience, not in enterprises which the poets call heroic, and which are commonly the effects of interest, pride and worldly honor.
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Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
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Light sufferings give us leisure to complain.
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He is a perpetual fountain of good sense.
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He made all countries where he came his own.
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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.
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Even victors are by victories undone.
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I maintain, against the enemies of the stage, that patterns of piety, decently represented, may second the precepts.
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If you have lived, take thankfully the past. Make, as you can, the sweet remembrance last.
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The elephant is never won by anger nor must that man who would reclaim a lion take him by the teeth.
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Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
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The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms.
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The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race.
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