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To so perverse a sex all grace is vain.
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
Vain
Sex
Grace
Perverse
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Even victors are by victories undone.
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My heart's so full of joy, That I shall do some wild extravagance Of love in public and the foolish world, Which knows not tenderness, will think me mad.
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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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Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure,- Sweet is pleasure after pain.
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The bravest men are subject most to chance.
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They live too long who happiness outlive.
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Death in itself is nothing but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.
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Even kings but play and when their part is done, some other, worse or better, mounts the throne.
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Drinking is the soldier's pleasure.
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But 'tis the talent of our English nation, Still to be plotting some new reformation.
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How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
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Faith is to believe what you do not yet see: the reward for this faith is to see what you believe. Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.
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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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