John Dryden


Welcome as kindly showers to the long parched earth.

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,–
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.

Book xv. The Worship of

So over violent, or over civil,
That every man with him was God or Devil.

Part i. Line 557.

And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.

Book iii. Ode 29, Line 87.

‘Tis good to laugh at any rate; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness.

Look round the habitable world: how few
Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.

Juvenal. Satire x.

Beware the fury of a patient man.

Part i. Line 1005.

For truth has such a face and such a mien,
As to be lov’d needs only to be seen.

I have not joyed an hour since you departed, for public miseries, and for private fears; but this blest meeting has o’erpaid them all.

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.


For every inch that is not fool is rogue.

Part ii. Line 463.

And kind as kings upon their coronation day.

part i. Line 271.

Men met each other with erected look,
The steps were higher that they took;
Friends to congratulate their friends made haste,
And long inveterate foes saluted as they pass’d.

Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls must dive below.

All for Love. Prologue.

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Line 15.

For those whom God to ruin has design’d,
He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.

And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.

Britannia Rediviva. Line 208.

Men are but children of a larger growth.

All for Love. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Bacchus, ever fair and ever young.

Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.

Epistle to Congreve. Line 19.

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.

Aurengzebe. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Rich the treasure,
Sweet the pleasure,–
Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Line 58.

Be kind to my remains; and oh defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend!

Epistle to Congreve. Line 72.

Whate’er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone ‘t was natural to please.

For pity melts the mind to love.

Line 96.