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The conscience of a people is their power.

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
Power
People
Conscience

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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.
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The wretched have no friends.
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Revealed religion first informed thy sight, and reason saw not till faith sprung to light.
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The Fates but only spin the coarser clue The finest of the wool is left for you.
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I feel my sinews slackened with the fright, and a cold sweat trills down all over my limbs, as if I were dissolving into water.
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Secret guilt by silence is betrayed.
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Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
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For age but tastes of pleasures youth devours.
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The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race.
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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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Whistling to keep myself from being afraid.
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Beware the fury of a patient man.
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Second thoughts, they say, are best.
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The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms.
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