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I have a soul that like an ample shield Can take in all, and verge enough for more.
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
Verge
Soul
Take
Enough
Like
Quiver
Ample
Shield
Shields
More quotes by John Dryden
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
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The scum that rises upmost, when the nation boils.
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The poorest of the sex have still an itch To know their fortunes, equal to the rich. The dairy-maid inquires, if she shall take The trusty tailor, and the cook forsake.
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The soft complaining flute, In dying notes, discovers The woes of hopeless lovers.
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Let cheerfulness on happy fortune wait.
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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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He made all countries where he came his own.
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Home is the sacred refuge of our life.
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So over violent, or over civil that every man with him was God or Devil.
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Hushed as midnight silence.
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An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
John Dryden
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
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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.
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Mighty things from small beginnings grow.
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Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave deserves the fair.
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For all have not the gift of martyrdom.
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We find few historians who have been diligent enough in their search for truth it is their common method to take on trust what they help distribute to the public by which means a falsehood once received from a famed writer becomes traditional to posterity.
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Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
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Griefs assured are felt before they come.
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Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blundering kind of melody Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and thin, Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in Free from all meaning whether good or bad, And in one word, heroically mad.
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