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Old age creeps on us ere we think it nigh.

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
Nigh
Creeps
Age
Think
Thinking

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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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Like pilgrims to th' appointed place we tend The World's an Inn, and Death the journey's end.
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Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
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Or hast thou known the world so long in vain?
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The end of satire is the amendment of vices by correction and he who writes honestly is no more an enemy to the offender than the physician to the patient when he prescribes harsh remedies.
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Kings fight for empires, madmen for applause.
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But how can finite grasp Infinity?
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Then we upon our globe's last verge shall go, And view the ocean leaning on the sky: From thence our rolling Neighbours we shall know, And on the Lunar world securely pry.
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For all the happiness mankind can gain Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain.
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Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
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Fortune's unjust she ruins oft the brave, and him who should be victor, makes the slave.
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Sweet is pleasure after pain.
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The winds are out of breath.
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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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My love's a noble madness.
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Much malice mingled with a little wit Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ.
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