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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.
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
Rest
Fairs
Dove
Earth
Secure
Returning
Every
Message
Guest
Long
Fair
Bore
Labouring
Messages
Bores
Bearer
Mark
Guests
Ark
Window
Bless
Relics
Mankind
Receive
Restored
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Lucky men are favorites of Heaven.
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Honor is but an empty bubble.
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My love's a noble madness.
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Plots, true or false, are necessary things, To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.
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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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Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend The World's an Inn, and Death the journey's end.
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My right eye itches, some good luck is near.
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Repentance is but want of power to sin.
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Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
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Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
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For your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.
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The people have a right supreme To make their kings, for Kings are made for them. All Empire is no more than Pow'r in Trust, Which when resum'd, can be no longer just. Successionm for the general good design'd, In its own wrong a Nation cannot bind.
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None but the brave deserve the fair.
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If you are for a merry jaunt, I will try, for once, who can foot it farthest.
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Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
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Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
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Wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
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