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If all the world be worth thy winning. / Think, oh think it worth enjoying: / Lovely Thaïs sits beside thee, / Take the good the gods provide thee.
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
Enjoy
Beside
Take
Enjoying
Good
Gods
Think
Provide
Thinking
Lovely
World
Thee
Worth
Winning
Sits
More quotes by John Dryden
The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms.
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Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
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With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: Of these, my barbers take a costly care.
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Every age has a kind of universal genius, which inclines those that live in it to some particular studies.
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But when to sin our biased nature leans, The careful Devil is still at hand with means And providently pimps for ill desires.
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An horrible stillness first invades our ear, And in that silence we the tempest fear.
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…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky
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I'm a little wounded, but I am not slain I will lay me down to bleed a while. Then I'll rise and fight again.
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Truth is the object of our understanding, as good is of our will and the understanding can no more be delighted with a lie than the will can choose an apparent evil.
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The winds that never moderation knew, Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge Their straighten'd lungs or conscious of their charge.
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Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.
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A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind.
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Farewell, too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own.
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I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
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My love's a noble madness.
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Time and death shall depart and say in flying Love has found out a way to live, by dying.
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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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You see through love, and that deludes your sight, As what is straight seems crooked through the water.
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