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So poetry, which is in Oxford made An art, in London only is a trade.

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
Oxford
London
Trade
Poetry
Art
Made

More quotes by John Dryden

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Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the' appointed place we tend The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.
John Dryden
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My love's a noble madness.
John Dryden
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Words are but pictures of our thoughts.
John Dryden
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Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.
John Dryden
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
John Dryden
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So the false spider, when her nets are spread, deep ambushed in her silent den does lie.
John Dryden
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The winds are out of breath.
John Dryden
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Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.
John Dryden
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Farewell, too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own.
John Dryden
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But far more numerous was the herd of such, Who think too little, and who talk too much.
John Dryden
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Good sense and good nature are never separated and good nature is the product of right reason.
John Dryden
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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.
John Dryden
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What passion cannot music raise and quell!
John Dryden
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Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, abhors the cruel.
John Dryden
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And after hearing what our Church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern.
John Dryden
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Good sense and good-nature are never separated, though the ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good-nature, by which I mean beneficence and candor, is the product of right reason.
John Dryden
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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.
John Dryden
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New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.
John Dryden
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Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
John Dryden
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For thee, sweet month the groves green liveries wear. If not the first, the fairest of the year For thee the Graces lead the dancing hours, And Nature's ready pencil paints the flowers. When thy short reign is past, the feverish sun The sultry tropic fears, and moves more slowly on.
John Dryden