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Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.
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
Eased
Bearing
Pains
Half
Pain
Use
Long
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Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease.
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For all have not the gift of martyrdom.
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For Art may err, but Nature cannot miss.
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The blushing beauties of a modest maid.
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For every inch that is not fool, is rogue.
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I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language.
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The propriety of thoughts and words, which are the hidden beauties of a play, are but confusedly judged in the vehemence of action.
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Tis Fate that flings the dice, And as she flings Of kings makes peasants, And of peasants kings.
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With how much ease believe we what we wish!
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There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know.
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I saw myself the lambent easy light Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night.
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How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.
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Men's virtues I have commended as freely as I have taxed their crimes.
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Maintain your post: That's all the fame you need For 'tis impossible you should proceed.
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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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Mankind is ever the same, and nothing lost out of nature, though everything is altered.
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A narrow mind begets obstinacy we do not easily believe what we cannot see.
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A knock-down argument 'tis but a word and a blow.
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Dancing is the poetry of the foot.
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