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They live too long who happiness outlive.

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
Outlive
Happiness
Live
Long

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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.
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He who trusts a secret to his servant makes his own man his master.
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Mere poets are sottish as mere drunkards are, who live in a continual mist, without seeing or judging anything clearly. A man should be learned in several sciences, and should have a reasonable, philosophical and in some measure a mathematical head, to be a complete and excellent poet.
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Love reckons hours for months, and days for years and every little absence is an age.
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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.
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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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Nature meant me A wife, a silly, harmless, household dove, Fond without art, and kind without deceit.
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So poetry, which is in Oxford made An art, in London only is a trade.
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…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky
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Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long.
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I maintain, against the enemies of the stage, that patterns of piety, decently represented, may second the precepts.
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When I consider life, it is all a cheat. Yet fooled with hope, people favor this deceit.
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